“But Shakespeare’s magic could not copied be; Within that circle none durst walk but he.”

Swift was the race, but short the time to run.

Deathless laurel is the victor’s due.

Fame then was cheap, and the first comer sped; And they have kept it since by being dead.

The bravest men are subject most to chance.

When we view elevated ideas of Nature, the result of that view is admiration, which is always the cause of pleasure.

Love is not in our choice but in our fate.

When a man’s life is under debate, The judge can ne’er too long deliberate.

Happy the man, and happy he alone, he who can call today his own; he who, secure within, can say, tomorrow do thy worst, for I have lived today.

What precious drops are those, Which silently each other’s track pursue, Bright as young diamonds in their faint dew?

Few know the use of life before ’tis past.

A happy genius is the gift of nature.

The glorious lamp of heaven, the radiant sun, Is Nature’s eye.

And that the Scriptures, though not everywhere Free from corruption, or entire, or clear, Are uncorrupt, sufficient, clear, entire In all things which our needful faith require.

Pity only on fresh objects stays, but with the tedious sight of woes decays.

Let Fortune empty her whole quiver on me, I have a soul that, like an ample shield, Can take in all, and verge enough for more; Fate was not mine, nor am I Fate’s: Souls know no conquerors.

Love is love’s reward.