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He rams his quill with scandal and with scoff, But 'tis so very foul, it won't go off.
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Old men love novelties; the last arriv'd Still pleases best; the youngest steals their smiles.
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Our land is the dearer of our sacrifices. The blood of our martyrs sanctifies and enriches it. Their spirit passes into thousands of hearts. How costly is the progress of the race. It is only by the giving of life that we can have life.
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He that lives in perpetual suspicion lives the life of a sentinel--of a sentinel never relieved, whose business it is to look out for and expect an enemy, which is an evil not very far short of perishing by him.
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'Tis immortality, 'tis that alone, Amid life's pains, abasements, emptiness, The soul can comfort, elevate, and fill. That only, and that amply this performs.
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Blest leisure is our curse; like that of Cain, It, makes us wander, wander earth around, To fly that tyrant Thought. As Atlas groan'd The world beneath, we groan beneath an hour.
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Day buries day; month, month; and year the year: Our life is but a chain of many deaths.
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Excellent creature! How my soul pants for thee!
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When human glory rises high As human glory can; When though the king is truly great, Still greater is the man.
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O sacred solitude! divine retreat! Choice of the prudent! envy of the great, By thy pure stream, or in thy waving shade, We court fair wisdom, that celestial maid.
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Our thoughts are heard in heaven.
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A tender smile, our sorrows' only balm.
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The love of praise, howe'er concealed by art, Reigns more or less, and glows in ev'ry heart: The proud to gain it toils on toils endure, The modest shun it, but to make it sure.
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Not all the pride of beauty; Those eyes, that tell us what the sun is made of; Those lips, whose touch is to be bought with life; Those hills of driven snow, which seen are felt: All these possessed are nought, but as they are The proof, the substance of an inward passion, And the rich plunder of a taken heart.
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We rise in glory, as we sink in pride: Where boasting ends, there dignity begins.
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A man I knew who lived upon a smile, And well it fed him; he look'd plump and fair
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Live now; be damn'd hereafter.
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In an active life is sown the seed of wisdom; but he who reflects not, never reaps.
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Some go to Church, proud humbly to repent, And come back much more guilty than they went: One way they look, another way they steer, Pray to the Gods; but would have Mortals hear; And when their sins they set sincerely down, They'll find that their Religion has been one.
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The spider's most attenuated thread Is cord, is cable, to man's tender tie On earthly bliss; it breaks at every breeze.
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Polite diseases make some idiots vain, Which, if unfortunately well, they feign.
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By night an atheist half believes in God.
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Rising glory occasions the greatest envy, as kindling fires the greatest smoke.
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What angels guard, no longer dare neglect, Slighting thyself, affront not God's respect.