Now stir the fire, and close the shutters fast, Let fall the curtains, wheel the sofa around, And while the bubbling and loud-hissing urn Throws up a steamy column, and the cups That cheer but not inebriate, wait on each, So let us welcome peaceful evening in

A life of ease is a difficult pursuit.

Events of all sorts creep or fly exactly as God pleases.

There is a pleasure in poetic pains / Which only poets know.

To follow foolish precedents, and wink With both our eyes, is easier than to think.

Folly ends where genuine hope begins.

Is base in kind, and born to be a slave.