Beware Of The Fury Of The Patient

Every Age Has A Kind Of Universal Genius, Which Inclines Those That Live In It To Some Particular Studies.

Seas Are The Fields Of Combat For The Winds; But When They Sweep Along Some Flowery Coast, Their Wings Move Mildly, And Their Rage Is Lost.

While I Am Compassed Round With Mirth, My Soul Lies Hid In Shades Of Grief, Whence, Like The Bird Of Night, With Half-shut Eyes, She Peeps, And Sickens At The Sight Of Day.

I Am Resolved To Grow Fat, And Look Young Till Forty.

Or Hast Thou Known The World So Long In Vain?