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.

Let cheerfulness on happy fortune wait.

Ever a glutton, at another's cost, But in whose kitchen dwells perpetual frost.

She feared no danger, for she knew no sin.

One of the greatest, most noble, and most sublime poems which either this age or nation has produced.

To breed up the son to common sense is evermore the parent's least expense.

For danger levels man and brute And all are fellows in their need.