Some by experience find those words mis-placed: At leisure married, they repent in haste.

All well bred persons lie - Besides, you are a woman; you must never speak what you think.

Thus grief still treads upon the heels of pleasure; Married in haste, we may repent at leisure.

If this be not love, it is madness, and then it is pardonable.

Thou art a retailer of phrases, and dost deal in remnants of remnants.

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.

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.