All Hope Is Lost Of My Reception

Sweet Intercourse Of Looks And Smiles; For Smiles From Reason Flow.

True It Is That Covetousness Is Rich, Modesty Starves.

Rhime Being No Necessary Adjunct Or True Ornament Of Poem Or Good Verse, In Longer Works Especially, But The Invention Of A Barbarous Age, To Set Off Wretched Matter And Lame Meeter...the Troublesom And Modern Bondage Of Rimeing.

Good, The More Communicated, More Abundant Grows.

From Restless Thoughts, That, Like A Deadly Swarm Of Hornets Arm'd, No Sooner Found Alone, But Rush Upon Me Thronging.