Where'er you walk, cool gales shall fan the glade,
Trees where you sit shall crowd into a shade:
Where'er you tread, the blushing flowers shall rise,
And all things flourish where you turn your eyes."

While pensive poets painful vigils keep
Sleepless themselves to give their readers sleep.

Woman's at best a contradiction still.

"Who sees with equal eye, as God of all,
A hero perish, or a sparrow fall,
Atoms or systems into ruin hurled,
And now a bubble burst and now a world."

"When men grow virtuous in their old age, they only make a sacrifice to God of the devil's leavings."