Beauty Is The Lover's Gift.

A Woman Only Obliges A Man To Secrecy, That She May Have The Pleasure Of Telling Herself.

Musick Has Charms To Sooth A Savage Breast...

She Once Used Me With That Insolence, That In Revenge I Took Her To Pieces; Sifted Her, And Separated Her Failings; I Studied 'em, And Got 'em By Rote. The Catalogue Was So Large, That I Was Not Without Hopes, One Day Or Other To Hate Her Heartily.

There Are Come Critics So With Spleen Diseased, They Scarcely Come Inclining To Be Pleased: And Sure He Must Have More Than Mortal Skill, Who Please One Against His Will.

Honor Is A Public Enemy, And Conscience A Domestic, And He That Would Secure His Pleasure, Must Pay A Tribute To One And Go Halves With T'other.