They never fail who die in a great cause.
So for a good old-gentlemanly vice, I think I must take up with avarice.
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
In solitude, when we are least alone.
One of the pleasures of reading old letters is the knowledge that they need no answer.
But 'midst the crowd, the hum, the shock of men, To hear, to see, to feel, and to possess, And roam along, the world's tired denizen, With none who bless us, none whom we can bless.