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

[Gulliver was soon being read] "from the cabinet council to the nursery".

Around the steel no tortur'd worm shall twine, No blood of living insect stain my line; Let me, less cruel, cast the feather'd hook, With pliant rod athwart the pebbled brook, Silent along the mazy margin stray, And with the fur-wrought fly delude the prey.

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

Whence is thy learning? Hath thy toil O'er books consumed the midnight oil?

Variety's the source of joy below, From whence still fresh-revolving pleasures flow, In books and love the mind one end pursues, And only change the expiring flames renews.

One common fate we both must prove; You die with envy, I with love.