Love Is Not In Our Choice But

How Blessed Is He, Who Leads A Country Life, Unvex'd With Anxious Cares, And Void Of Strife! Who Studying Peace, And Shunning Civil Rage, Enjoy'd His Youth, And Now Enjoys His Age: All Who Deserve His Love, He Makes His Own; And, To Be Lov'd Himself, Needs Only To Be Known.

Pity Melts The Mind To Love.

Men Are But Children Of A Larger Growth, Our Appetites As Apt To Change As Theirs, And Full As Craving Too, And Full As Vain.

Many Things Impossible To Thought Have Been By Need To Full Perfection Brought.

So Over Violent, Or Over Civil That Every Man With Him Was God Or Devil.