A mighty pain to love it is, and 'tis a pain that pain to miss; but of all the pains, the greatest pain is to love, but love in vain. |
A mighty pain to love it is, and 'tis a pain that pain to miss; but of all the pains, the greatest pain is to love, but love in vain. |
And I myself a Catholic will be, / So far at least, great saint, to pray to thee. / Hail, Bard triumphant! and some care bestow / On us, the Poets militant below. |
Curiosity does, no less than devotion, pilgrims make |
For why / Should every creature drink but I, / Why, man of morals, tell me why? |
God the first garden made, and the first city Cain. |
Hail, old patrician trees, so great and good! |
His faith perhaps in some nice tenets might Be wrong; his life, I'm sure, was always in the right |
His faith perhaps in some nice tenets might Be wrong; his life, I'm sure, was always in the right |
Hope! of all ills that men endure, the only cheap and universal cure |
I never had any other desire so strong, and so like covetousness, as that.... I might be master at last of a small house and a large garden, with very moderate conveniences joined to them, and there dedicate the remainder of my life to the culture of them and the study of nature. |
I would not fear nor wish my fate, but boldly say each night, to-morrow let my sun his beams display, or in clouds hide them; I have lived today. |
I would not fear nor wish my fate, but boldly say each night, to-morrow let my sun his beams display, or in clouds hide them; I have lived today. |
Life is an incurable disease |
Love in her sunny eyes does basking play;/ Love walks the pleasant mazes of her hair;/ Love does on both her lips for ever stray;/ And sows and reaps a thousand kisses there./ In all her outward parts Love's always seen;/ But, oh, he never went within. |