Envy Is A Kind Of Praise.

Variety's The Source Of Joy Below, From Whence Still Fresh-revolving Pleasures Flow, In Books And Love The Mind One End Pursues, And Only Change The Expiring Flames Renews.

Give Me, Kind Heaven, A Private Station, A Mind Serene For Contemplation.

In Love We Are All Fools Alike.

I Cannot Raise My Worth Too High; Of What Vast Consequence Am I! "not Of The Importance You Suppose," Replies A Flea Upon His Nose; "be Humble, Learn Thyself To Scan; Know, Pride Was Never Made For Man.

If With Me You'd Fondly Stray Over The Hills And Far Away.