Even Victors Are By Victories Undone.

The First Is The Law, The Last Prerogative.

Trust On And Think To-morrow Will Repay; To-morrow's Falser Than The Former Day; Lies Worse; And While It Says, We Shall Be Blest With Some New Joys, Cuts Off What We Possest.

There Is An Inimitable Grace In Virgil's Words, And In Them Principally Consists That Beauty Which Gives So Inexpressible A Pleasure To Him Who Best Understands Their Force. This Diction Of His, I Must Once Again Say, Is Never To Be Copied; And Since It Cannot, He Will Appear But Lame In The Best Translation.

Ev'n Wit's A Burthen, When It Talks Too Long.

So The False Spider, When Her Nets Are Spread, Deep Ambushed In Her Silent Den Does Lie.