Patience is the panacea; but where does it grow, or who can swallow it?
May I always have a heart superior, with economy suitable, to my fortune.
My banks they are furnish'd with bees, Whose murmur invites one to sleep.
There is a certain flimsiness of poetry which seems expedient in a song.
Avarice is the most oppose of all characters to that of God Almighty, whose alone it is to give and not receive.
The proper means of increasing the love we bear our native country is to reside some time in a foreign one.