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

O solitude, where are the charms That sages have seen in thy face? Better dwell in the midst of alarms, Than reign in this horrible place.

Elegant as simplicity, and warm As ecstasy.

The earth was made so various, that the mind Of desultory man, studious of change, And pleased with novelty, might be indulged.

Sends Nature forth the daughter of the skies... To dance on earth, and charm all human eyes.

Solitude, seeming a sanctuary, proves a grave; a sepulchre in which the living lie, where all good qualities grow sick and die

His wit invites you by his looks to come, But when you knock, it never is at home.