Her wit was more than man, her innocence a child.

I strongly wish for what I faintly hope; like the daydreams of melancholy men, I think and think in things impossible, yet love to wander in that golden maze.

Either be wholly slaves or wholly free.

Fowls, by winter forced, forsake the floods, and wing their hasty flight to happier lands.

And plenty makes us poor.

Our vows are heard betimes! and Heaven takes care To grant, before we can conclude the prayer: Preventing angels met it half the way, And sent us back to praise, who came to pray.

All flowers will droop in the absence of the sun that waked their sweets.