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Fair Greece! sad relic of departed worth! Immortal, though no more! though fallen, great!
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And to his eyeThere was but one beloved face on earth, And that was shining on him.
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A pretty woman is a welcome guest.
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She walks in beauty, like the nightOf cloudless climes and starry skies;And all that's best of dark and brightMeet in her aspect and her eyes:Thus mellow'd to that tender lightWhich heaven to gaudy day denies.
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I can't but say it is an awkward sight To see one's native land receding through The growing waters; it unmans one quite, Especially when life is rather new.
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Your thief looks Exactly like the rest, or rather better; 'Tis only at the bar, and in the dungeon, That wise men know your felon by his features.
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His heart was one of those which most enamour us,Wax to receive, and marble to retain:He was a lover of the good old school,Who still become more constant as they cool.
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Since Eve ate the apple, much depends on dinner.
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What's drinking?A mere pause from thinking!
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Sublime tobacco! which from east to west, Cheers the tar's labour or the Turkman's rest; Which on the Moslem's ottoman divides His hours, and rivals opium and his brides; Magnificent in Stamboul, but less grand, Though not less loved, in Wapping or the Strand: Divine in hookas, glorious in a pipe, When tipp'd with amber, mellow, rich, and ripe; Like other charmers wooing the caress, More dazzlingly when daring in full dress; Yet thy true lovers more admire by far Thy naked beauties Give me a cigar!
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This man is freed from servile bands, Of hope to rise, or fear to fall; Lord of himself, though not of lands, And leaving nothing, yet hath all.
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Oh! if thou hast at length Discover'd that my love is worth esteem, I ask no more-but let us hence together, And I - let me say we - shall yet be happy. Assyria is not all the earth-we'll find A world out of our own - and be more bless'd Than I have ever been, or thou, with all An empire to indulge thee.
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Be thou the rainbow in the storms of life. The evening beam that smiles the clouds away, and tints tomorrow with prophetic ray.
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So for a good old-gentlemanly vice, I think I must take up with avarice.
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He makes a solitude, and calls it - peace!
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A change came o'er the spirit of my dream.
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In general I do not draw well with literary men -- not that I dislike them but I never know what to say to them after I have praised their last publication.
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I am so changeable, being everything by turns and nothing long - such a strange melange of good and evil.
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When age chills the blood, when our pleasures are past-For years fleet away with the wings of the dove- The dearest remembrance will still be the last,Our sweetest memorial the first kiss of love.
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I should be very willing to redress men wrongs, and rather check than punish crimes, had not Cervantes, in that all too true tale of Quixote, shown how all such efforts fail.
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The Niobe of nations! there she stands.
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Physicians mend or end us, Secundum artem; but although we sneer - In health - when ill we call them to attend us, Without the least propensity to jeer.
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Folly loves the martyrdom of fame.
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There was a laughing devil in his sneer.