Hushed as midnight silence.
If by the people you understand the multitude, the hoi polloi, 'tis no matter what they think; they are sometimes in the right, sometimes in the wrong; their judgment is a mere lottery.
Happy, happy, happy pair! None but the brave deserves the fair.
All heiresses are beautiful.
Pity only on fresh objects stays, but with the tedious sight of woes decays.
As poetry is the harmony of words, so music is that of notes.