Bankrupt Of Life, Yet Prodigal Of Ease.

Happy The Man, And Happy He Alone, He Who Can Call Today His Own; He Who, Secure Within, Can Say, Tomorrow Do Thy Worst, For I Have Lived Today.

Not To Ask Is Not Be Denied.

I Saw Myself The Lambent Easy Light Gild The Brown Horror, And Dispel The Night.

Rhyme Is The Rock On Which Thou Art To Wreck.

Since A True Knowledge Of Nature Gives Us Pleasure, A Lively Imitation Of It, Either In Poetry Or Painting, Must Produce A Much Greater; For Both These Arts Are Not Only True Imitations Of Nature, But Of The Best Nature.