Cervantes smiled Spain's chivalry away; A single laugh demolish'd the right arm Of his own country.

Like other parties of the kind, it was first silent, then talky, then argumentative, then disputatious, then unintelligible, then altogether, then inarticulate, and then drunk. When we had reached the last step of this glorious ladder, it was difficult to get down again without stumbling.

Many are poets, but without the name;For what is Poesy but to createFrom overfeeling Good or Ill; and aimAt an external life beyond our fate,And be the new Prometheus of new men,Bestowing fire from Heaven, and then, too late,Finding the pleasure given repaid with pain

Glory, like the phoenix 'midst her fires, Exhales her odours, blazes, and expires.

This is to be along; this, this is solitude!

Ecclesiastes said that "all is vanity," Most modern preachers say the same, or show it By their examples of true Christianity: In short, all know, or very short may know it.

So sweet the blush of bashfulness, E'en pity scarce can wish it less!