I As Little Fear That God Will

The Muse But Serv'd To Ease Some Friend, Not Wife, / To Help Me Through This Long Disease, My Life.

The Dull Flat Falsehood Serves For Policy, And In The Cunning, Truth's Itself A Lie.

Lend, Lend Your Wings! I Mount! I Fly! O Grave! Where Is Thy Victory? O Death! Where Is Thy Sting?

A Brave Man Thinks No One His Superior Who Does Him An Injury, For He Has It Then In His Power To Make Himself Superior To The Other By Forgiving It.

Ambition First Sprung From Your Blest Abodes: The Glorious Fault Of Angels And Of Gods.