Of all the plagues with which the world is curst, Of every ill, a woman is the worst.

Of all the kind of pains, the greatest pain is to love and to love in vain.

Of all the plagues with which the world is curst, Of every ill, a woman is the worst.

There is no heaven like mutual love.

O Love! thou bane of the most generous souls! Thou doubtful pleasure, and thou certain pain.

Shall Nature, erring from her first command, self-preservation, fall by her own hand?

Marriage the happiest bond of love might be, If hands were only joined when hearts agree.