The Bravest Men Are Subject Most To

When Beauty Fires The Blood, How Love Exalts The Mind!

We Must Beat The Iron While It Is Hot, But We May Polish It At Leisure.

Imagining Is In Itself The Very Height And Life Of Poetry, Which, By A Kind Of Enthusiasm Or Extraordinary Emotion Of The Soul, Makes It Seem To Us That We Behold Those Things Which The Poet Paints.

A Lazy Frost, A Numbness Of The Mind.

When I Consider Life, 'tis All A Cheat; Yet, Fooled With Hope, Men Favour The Deceit; Trust On, And Think Tomorrow Will Repay. Tomorrow's Falser Than The Former Day.