When Misfortune Is Asleep, Let No One

My Right Eye Itches, Some Good Luck Is Near.

All Objects Lose By Too Familiar A View.

Welcome, Thou Kind Deceiver! Thou Best Of Thieves; Who, With An Easy Key, Dost Open Life, And, Unperceived By Us, Even Steal Us From Ourselves.

The Fates But Only Spin The Coarser Clue; The Finest Of The Wool Is Left For You.

What, Start At This! When Sixty Years Have Spread. Their Grey Experience O'er Thy Hoary Head? Is This The All Observing Age Could Gain? Or Hast Thou Known The World So Long In Vain?