Go miser go, for money sell your soul. Trade wares for wares and trudge from pole to pole, So others may say when you are dead and gone. See what a vast estate he left his son.
The first is the law, the last prerogative.
When beauty fires the blood, how love exalts the mind!
None but the brave deserve the fair.
Happy the man, and happy he alone, he, who can call today his own.
Good Heaven, whose darling attribute we find is boundless grace, and mercy to mankind, abhors the cruel.