Twas never merry world Since lowly feigning was called compliment.
O, how full of briers is this working-day world!
Love is too young to know what conscience is.
The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together.
Best men oft are moulded out of faults.
It is great To do that thing that ends all other deeds, Which shackles accidents and bolts up change.