The Game Is Never Lost Till Won.

Oh, Rather Give Me Commentators Plain, Who With No Deep Researches Vex The Brain; Who From The Dark And Doubtful Love To Run, And Hold Their Glimmering Tapers To The Sun.

The Coward Never On Himself Relies, But To An Equal For Assistance Flies.

Fears Of Sinning Let In Thoughts Of Sin.

See Time Has Touched Me Gently In His Race, And Left No Odious Furrows In My Face.

In This Wild World The Fondest And The Best Are The Most Tried, Most Troubled And Distress'd.