Most glorious night! Thou wert not sent for slumber!
Ye stars! which are the poetry of heaven!
You should have a softer pillow than my heart.
Why I came here, I know not; where I shall go it is useless to inquire - in the midst of myriads of the living and the dead worlds, stars, systems, infinity, why should I be anxious about an atom?
A woman being never at a loss... the devil always sticks by them.
On with the dance! let joy be unconfin'd No sleep till morn, when Youth and Pleasure meet To chase the Glowing Hours with Flying feet