Lowly, with a broken neck, The crocus lays her cheek to mire.
Friendship, I fancy, means one heart between two.
Caricature is rough truth.
The man who has no mind of his own lends it to the priests.
Not till the fire is dying in the grate, Look we for any kinship with the stars.
Sentimentalists are they who seek to enjoy without incurring the Immense Debtorship for a thing done.