Thou strong seducer, Opportunity!
For those whom God to ruin has design'd, He fits for fate, and first destroys their mind.
For all the happiness mankind can gain Is not in pleasure, but in rest from pain.
When he spoke, what tender words he used! So softly, that like flakes of feathered snow, They melted as they fell.
The secret pleasure of a generous act Is the great mind's great bribe.
Fool that I was, upon my eagle's wings I bore this wren, till I was tired with soaring, and now he mounts above me.