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	In this fool's paradise he drank delight.   
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	He tried the luxury of doing good.   
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	To sigh, yet not recede; to grieve, yet not repent.   
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	Time has touched me gently in his race,And left no odious furrows in my face.   
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	Books cannot always please, however good;Minds are not ever craving for their food.   
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	Oh, rather give me commentators plain,Who with no deep researches vex the brain;Who from the dark and doubtful love to run,And hold their glimmering tapers to the sun.   
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	Our farmers round, well pleased with constant gain,Like other farmers, flourish and complain.   
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	Better to love amiss than nothing to have loved.   
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	Habit with him was all the test of truth,It must be right: I’ve done it from my youth.   
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	The murmuring poor, who will not fast in peace.   
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	In idle wishes fools supinely stay;Be there a will, and wisdom finds a way.   
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	A master passion is the love of news.   
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	Secrets with girls, like loaded guns with boys,Are never valued till they make a noise.   
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	Cut and come again.   
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	'T was good advice, and meant, my son, Be good.   
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	Where Plenty smiles - alas! she smiles for few,And those who taste not, yet behold her store,Are as the slaves that dig the golden ore,The wealth around them makes them doubly poor.   
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	Her air, her manners, all who saw admir'd;Courteous though coy, and gentle though retir'd;The joy of youth and health her eyes display'd,And ease of heart her every look convey'd.   
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	Who calls a lawyer rogue, may find, too lateUpon one of these depends his whole estate.   
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	And took for truth the test of ridicule.   
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	But 'twas a maxim he had often tried,That right was right, and there he would abide.   
