O fie, miss, you must not kiss and tell.

She likes herself, yet others hates, For that which in herself she prizes; And while she laughs at them, forgets She is the thing that she despises.

'Tis well enough for a servant to be bred at an University. But the education is a little too pedantic for a gentleman.

A hungry wolf at all the herd will run, In hopes, through many, to make sure of one.

They come together like the Coroner's Inquest, to sit upon the murdered reputations of the week.

Turn pimp, flatterer, quack, lawyer, parson, be chaplain to an atheist, or stallion to an old woman, anything but a poet; for a poet is worse, more servile, timorous and fawning than any I have named.

Thus in this sad, but oh, too pleasing state! my soul can fix upon nothing but thee; thee it contemplates, admires, adores, nay depends on, trusts on you alone.