Oh, how portentous is prosperity! How comet-like, it threatens while it shines.
Ne'er to meet, or ne'er to part, is peace.
Wonder is involuntary praise.
Tired nature's sweet restorer, balmy sleep! He, like the world, his ready visit pays Where fortune smiles; the wretched he forsakes.
We cry for mercy to the next amusement, The next amusement mortgages our fields
On every thorn, delightful wisdom grows, In every rill a sweet instruction flows.