Do not wait to strike till the iron is hot; but make it hot by striking.

And a softness came from the starlight and filled me full to the bone.

There are no strangers here; Only friends you haven't yet met.

An intellectual hatred is the worst, So let her think opinions are accursed. Have I not seen the loveliest woman born Out of the mouth of Plenty's horn, Because of her opinionated mind Barter that horn and every good By quiet natures understood For an old bellows full of angry wind?

What shall I do for pretty girls Now my old bawd is dead?

I am still of opinion that only two topics can be of the least interest to a serious and studious mood - sex and the dead.

Swift has sailed into his rest; Savage indignation there Cannot lacerate his breast Imitate him if you dare, World-besotted traveler; he Served human liberty.