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Of Manners gentle, of Affections mild; In Wit, a Man; Simplicity, a Child.
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The flying Rumours gather'd as they roll'd, Scarce any Tale was sooner heard than told; And all who told it, added something new, And all who heard it, made Enlargements too, In ev'ry Ear it spread, on ev'ry Tongue it grew.
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Just as the twig is bent, the tree's inclined.
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Each finding like a friendSomething to blame, and something to commend.
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Know, sense, like charity, begins at home.
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They shift the moving toyshop of their heart.
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Hark! they whisper; angels say, Sister spirit, come away!
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The stoic husband was the glorious thing.The man had courage, was a sage, 'tis true,And lov'd his country.
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Now lap-dogs give themselves the rousing shake, And sleepless lovers, just at twelve, awake.
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Luxurious lobster-nights, farewell, For sober, studious days!
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Absent or dead, still let a friend be dear.
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From old Belerium to the northern main.
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I never knew any man in my life who could not bear another's misfortunes perfectly like a Christian.
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The meeting points the sacred hair dissever From the fair head, forever, and forever! Then flashed the living lightning from her eyes, And screams of horror rend th' affrighted skies.
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Party is the madness of many, for the gain of a few.
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Father of all! in every age, In every clime adored, By saint, by savage, and by sage, Jehovah, Jove, or Lord!
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Nothing can be more shocking and horrid than one of our kitchens sprinkled with blood, and abounding with the cries of expiring victims, or with the limbs of dead animals scattered or hung up here and there. It gives one the image of a giant's den in a romance, bestrewed with scattered heads and mangled limbs.
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On her white breast a sparkling cross she wore Which Jews might kiss, and infidels adore.
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If I am right, Thy grace import Still in the right to stay; If I am wrong, oh teach my heart To find that better way!
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There, take (says Justice), take ye each a shell: We thrive at Westminster on fools like you; 'T was a fat oyster,-live in peace,-adieu.
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Some old men, by continually praising the time of their youth, would almost persuade us that there were no fools in those days; but unluckily they are left themselves for examples.
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Is it, in Heav'n, a crime to love too well? To bear too tender, or too firm a heart, To act a lover's or a Roman's part? Is there no bright reversion in the sky, For those who greatly think, or bravely die?
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So unaffected, so compos'd a mind; So firm, yet soft; so strong, yet so retin'd; Heav'n, as its purest gold, by tortures try'd; The saint sustain'd it, but the woman died.
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A person who is too nice an observer of the business of the crowd, like one who is too curious in observing the labour of the bees, will often be stung for his curiosity.