Dreams are like portraits; and we find they please because they are confessed resemblances.
Fears of sinning let in thoughts of sin.
He tried the luxury of doing good.
'T was good advice, and meant, my son, Be good.
Her air, her manners, all who saw admir'd; Courteous though coy, and gentle though retir'd; The joy of youth and health her eyes display'd, And ease of heart her every look convey'd.
Life's bloomy flush was lost.