I have not loved the world, nor the world me, but let us part fair foes; I do believe, though I have found them not, that there may be words which are things, hopes which will not deceive, and virtues which are merciful, or weave snares for the failing: I would also deem o'er others' griefs that some sincerely grieve; that two, or one, are almost what they seem, that goodness is no name, and happiness no dream.

Opinions are made to be changed or how is truth to be got at?

Age shakes Athena's tower, but spares gray Marathon.

'Tis sweet to know there is an eye will mark our coming, and look brighter when we come.

Few things surpass old wine; and they may preach Who please, the more because they preach in vain

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.

My heart in passion, and my head on rhymes.