He was a man of his times. with one virtue and a thousand crimes. (The Corsair)
So sweet the blush of bashfulness, E'en pity scarce can wish it less!
The simple Wordsworth . . . / Who, both by precept and example, shows / That prose is verse, and verse is merely prose.
By headless Charles see heartless Henry lies.
My heart in passion, and my head on rhymes.
Let no man grumble when his friends fall off, As they will do like leaves at the first breeze; When your affairs come round, one way or t'other, Go to the coffee house, and take another.