Light Sufferings Give Us Leisure To Complain.

How Blessed Is He, Who Leads A Country Life, Unvex'd With Anxious Cares, And Void Of Strife! Who Studying Peace, And Shunning Civil Rage, Enjoy'd His Youth, And Now Enjoys His Age: All Who Deserve His Love, He Makes His Own; And, To Be Lov'd Himself, Needs Only To Be Known.

He Trudged Along Unknowing What He Sought, And Whistled As He Went, For Want Of Thought.

Imagination In A Poet Is A Faculty So Wild And Lawless That, Like A High Ranging Spaniel, It Must Have Clogs Tied To It, Lest It Outrun The Judgment. The Great Easiness Of Blank Verse Renders The Poet Too Luxuriant. He Is Tempted To Say Many Things Which Might Better Be Omitted, Or, At Least Shut Up In Fewer Words.

A Coward Is The Kindest Animal; 'tis The Most Forgiving Creature In A Fight.

If You Are For A Merry Jaunt, I Will Try, For Once, Who Can Foot It Farthest.