Among our crimes oblivion may be set.

Even kings but play; and when their part is done, some other, worse or better, mounts the throne.

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.

When I consider life, it is all a cheat. Yet fooled with hope, people favor this deceit.

Restless at home, and ever prone to range.

Affability, mildness, tenderness, and a word which I would fain bring back to its original signification of virtue,--I mean good-nature,--are of daily use; they are the bread of mankind and staff of life.

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.