Joys do not fall to the rich alone; nor has he lived ill of whose birth and death no one took note.
Gloriously false. [Like Rahab.]
I have to submit to much in order to pacify the touchy tribe of poets.
Poets wish to profit or to please.
Don't long for the unripe grape.
We hate merit while it is with us; when taken away from our gaze, we long for it jealously.