When we risk no contradiction, It prompts the tongue to deal in fiction.

Twas when the seas were roaring With hollow blasts of wind, A damsel lay deploring, All on a rock reclined.

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

Praising all alike, is praising none.

She who has never lov'd, has never liv'd.

What happiness the rural maid attends, In cheerful labour while each day she spends! She gratefully receives what Heav'n has sent, And, rich in poverty, enjoys content.

Fair words cost nothing.