The Very Pink Of Perfection.

Trade's Proud Empire Hastes To Swift Decay.

If The Soul Be Happily Disposed, Every Thing Becomes Capable Of Affording Entertainment, And Distress Will Almost Want A Name.

The Person Whose Clothes Are Extremely Fine I Am Too Apt To Consider As Not Being Possessed Of Any Superiority Of Fortune, But Resembling Those Indians Who Are Found To Wear All The Gold They Have In The World In A Bob At The Nose.

Of All Kinds Of Ambition, That Which Pursues Poetical Fame Is The Wildest

Turn, Gentle Hermit Of The Dale, And Guide My Lonely Way To Where Yon Taper Cheers The Vale With Hospitable Ray.