She, though in full-blown flower of glorious beauty, Grows cold even in the summer of her age.
What passion cannot music raise and quell!
Happy the man, and happy he alone, he, who can call today his own.
Interest makes all seem reason that leads to it.
Mere poets are sottish as mere drunkards are, who live in a continual mist, without seeing or judging anything clearly. A man should be learned in several sciences, and should have a reasonable, philosophical and in some measure a mathematical head, to be a complete and excellent poet.
Successful crimes alone are justified.