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.

Fair is the kingcup that in meadow blows, Fair is the daisy that beside her grows.

A man is always afraid of a woman that loves him too much

Cowards are cruel, but the brave love mercy and delight to save.

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

How, like a moth, the simple maid Still plays around the flame!

Exercise thy lasting youth defends.