“Beauties in vain their pretty eyes may roll; Charms strike the sight, but merit wins the soul.”

“Charms strike the sight, but merit wins the soul.”

“How vain are all these Glories, all our Pains,Unless good Sense preserve what Beauty gains:That Men may say, when we the Front-box grace,Behold the first in Virtue, as in Face!”

“Next o'er his books his eyes began to roll,In pleasing memory of all he stole.”

“Averse alike to flatter, or offend;Not free from faults, nor yet too vain to mend.”

“Brevity is the soul of wit.”

“No, fly me, fly me, far as pole from pole;Rise Alps between us! and whole oceans roll!Ah, come not, write not, think not once of me,Nor share one pang of all I felt for thee. Thy oaths I quit, thy memory resign; Forget, renounce me, hate whate'er was mine. Fair eyes, and tempting looks (which yet I view!) Long lov'd, ador'd ideas, all adieu!”