Praising all alike, is praising none.

But his kiss was so sweet, and so closely he pressed, that I languished and pined till I granted the rest.

Who hath not heard the rich complain Of surfeits, and corporeal pain? He barr'd from every use of wealth, Envies the ploughman's strength and health.

What will not luxury taste? Earth, sea, and air, Are daily ransack'd for the bill of fare. Blood stuffed in skins is British Christians' food, And France robs marshes of the croaking brood.

Breathe soft, ye winds! ye waves, in silence sleep!

A woman's friendship ever ends in love.

The sun was set; the night came on apace, And falling dews bewet around the place; The bat takes airy rounds on leathern wings, And the hoarse owl his woeful dirges sings.