Ever a glutton, at another's cost, But in whose kitchen dwells perpetual frost.
Love reckons hours for months, and days for years; and every little absence is an age.
Seas are the fields of combat for the winds; but when they sweep along some flowery coast, their wings move mildly, and their rage is lost.
Keen appetite And quick digestion wait on you and yours.
Nor is the people's judgment always true: the most may err as grossly as the few.
If thou dost still retain the same ill habits, the same follies, too, still thou art bound to vice, and still a slave.