By education most have been misled; So they believe, because they were bred. The priest continues where the nurse began, And thus the child imposes on the man.
We must beat the iron while it is hot, but we may polish it at leisure.
The glorious lamp of heaven, the radiant sun, Is Nature's eye.
The perverseness of my fate is such that he's not mine because he's mine too much.
Pity only on fresh objects stays, but with the tedious sight of woes decays.
For truth has such a face and such a mien, as to be loved needs only to be seen.