What a dusty answer gets the soul When hot for certainties in this our life!

Not till the fire is dying in the grate, Look we for any kinship with the stars. Oh, wisdom never comes when it is gold, And the great price we paid for it full worth: We have it only when we are half earth. Little avails that coinage to the old!

I know him, February's thrush, And loud at eve he valentines On sprays that paw the naked bush Where soon will sprout the thorns and bines.

That rarest gift to Beauty, Common Sense!

Friendship, I fancy, means one heart between two.

Woman's reason is in the milk of her breasts.

Heiresses are never jilted.