With Odorous Oil Thy Head And Hair

Trust Reposed In Noble Natures Obliges Them The More.

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

The Glorious Lamp Of Heaven, The Radiant Sun, Is Nature's Eye.

There Is An Inimitable Grace In Virgil's Words, And In Them Principally Consists That Beauty Which Gives So Inexpressible A Pleasure To Him Who Best Understands Their Force. This Diction Of His, I Must Once Again Say, Is Never To Be Copied; And Since It Cannot, He Will Appear But Lame In The Best Translation.

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