The nurse sleeps sweetly, hired to watch the sick, / whom, snoring, she disturbs.

Religion! what treasure untold resides in that heavenly word!

Detested sport, That owes its pleasures to another's pain.

Then liberty, like day, Breaks on the soul, and by a flash from Heaven Fires all the faculties with glorious joy.

But still remember, if you mean to please, To press your point with modesty and ease.

A man renowned for repartee will seldom scruple to make free with friendship's finest feeling, will thrust a dagger at your breast, and say he wounded you in jest, by way of balm for healing.

Made poetry a mere mechanic art.