Since My Dear Soul Was Mistress Of

As A Decrepit Father Takes Delight To See His Active Child Do Deeds Of Youth, So I, Made Lame By Fortune's Dearest Spite, Take All My Comfort Of Thy Worth And Truth.

Steed Threatens Steed, In High And Boastful Neighs Piercing The Night's Dull Ear; And From The Tents The Armorers Accomplishing The Knights, With Busy Hammers Closing Rivets Up, Give Dreadful Note Of Preparation.

All Impediments In Fancy's Course Are Motives Of More Fancy.

Bid The Dishonest Man Mend Himself; If He Mend, He Is No Longer Dishonest.

Nature's Tears Are Reason's Merriment.