The ambitious are forever followed by adulation for they receive the most pleasure from flattery.
Creation's heir, the world, the world is mine!
All the bloomy flush of life is fled.
Wept o'er his wounds, or tales of sorrow done, Shoulder'd his crutch, and shew'd how fields were won.
It world be well had we more misers than we have among us.
Thou source of all my bliss and all my woe, That found'st me poor at first, and keep'st me so.