How easy 'tis, when Destiny proves kind, With full-spread sails to run before the wind!

A lazy frost, a numbness of the mind.

Men are but children of a larger growth, Our appetites as apt to change as theirs, And full as craving too, and full as vain.

Could swell the soul to rage, or kindle soft desire.

Virtue without success is a fair picture shown by an ill light; but lucky men are favorites of heaven; all own the chief, when fortune owns the cause.

All empire is no more than power in trust.

Repentance is but want of power to sin.