From kings to cobblers 'tis the same; Bad servants wound their masters' fame.

To shoot at crows is powder flung away.

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

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

In beauty faults conspicuous grow; The smallest speck is seen on snow.

Fill it up. I take as large draughts of liquor as I did of love. I hate a flincher in either.

Good housewives all the winter's rage despise, Defended by the riding-hood's disguise; Or, underneath the umbrella's oily shade, Safe through the wet on clinking pattens tread, Let Persian dames the unbrella's ribs display, To guard their beauties from the sunny ray; Or sweating slaves support the shady load, When eastern monarchs show their state abroad; Britain in winter only knows its aid, To guard from chilling showers the walking maid.