The reading or non-reading a book will never keep down a single petticoat.

I awoke one morning and found myself famous.

Think not I am what I appear.

Egeria! sweet creation of some heart Which found no mortal resting-place so fair As thine ideal breast.

All who joy would win must share it. Happiness was born a Twin.

That low vice, curiosity!

I depart, Whither I know not; but the hour's gone by When Albion's lessening shores could grieve or glad mine eye.