I Can Hardly Forbear Hurling Things At

Take But Degree Away, Untune That String, And Hark, What Discord Follows!

The Poet's Eye, In A Fine Frenzy Rolling, Doth Glance From Heaven To Earth, From Earth To Heaven.

Let None Presume To Wear An Undeserved Dignity.

As A Decrepit Father Takes Delight To See His Active Child Do Deeds Of Youth, So I, Made Lame By Fortune's Dearest Spite, Take All My Comfort Of Thy Worth And Truth.

Thou Hast Nor Youth Nor Age But As It Were An After Dinner Sleep Dreaming Of Both.