“Death, only death, can break the lasting chain;And here, ev'n then, shall my cold dust remain”

“Whoever thinks a faultless piece to see,Thinks what ne'er was, nor is, nor e'er shall be,In every work regard the writer's end,Since none can compass more than they intend;And if the means be just, the conduct true,Applause, in spite of trivial faults, is due.”

“Blessed is he who expects nothing, for he shall never be disappointed.”

“All this dread order break- for whom? for thee?Vile worm!- oh madness! pride! impiety!”

“Let Sporus tremble — "What? that thing of silk, Sporus, that mere white curd of ass's milk?Satire or sense, alas! can Sporus feel?Who breaks a Butterfly upon a Wheel?"Yet let me flap this Bug with gilded wings,This painted Child of Dirt that stinks and stings; Whose Buzz the Witty and the Fair annoys,Yet Wit ne'er tastes, and Beauty ne'er enjoys,”

“All forms that perish other forms supply,(By turns we catch the vital breath and die)Like bubbles on the sea of matter borne,They rise, they break, and to that sea return.”

“Heav'n from all creatures hides the book of Fate, All but the page prescrib'd, their present state; From brutes what men, from men what spirits know: Or who could suffer Being here below? The lamb thy riot dooms to bleed to-day, Had he thy Reason, would he skip and play? Pleas'd to the last, he crops the flow'ry food, And licks the hand just rais'd to shed his blood. Oh blindness to the future! kindly giv'n, That each may fill the circle mark'd by Heav'n; Who sees with equal eye, as God of all, A hero perish, or a sparrow fall.”