The dew of compassion is a tear.
I am as comfortless as a pilgrim with peas in his shoes - and as cold as Charity, Chastity or any other Virtue.
May Moorland weavers boast Pindaric skill, And tailors' lays be longer than their bill! While punctual beaux reward the grateful notes, And pay for poems--when they pay for coats.
The French courage proceeds from vanity
A rose with all its sweetest leaves yet folded.
That low vice, curiosity!