Thee too, my Paridel! she mark'd thee there,
Stretch'd on the rack of a too easy chair,
And heard thy everlasting yarn confess
The Pains and Penalties of Idleness.
The way of the Creative works through change and transformation, so that each thing receives its true nature and destiny and comes into permanent accord with the Great Harmony: this is what furthers and what perseveres
How glowing guilt exalts the keen delight!
Envy will merit as its shade pursue, But like a shadow, proves the substance true.
Vices and virtues are of a strange nature, for the more we have, the fewer we think we have
Fools rush in where Angels fear to tread.
There is a certain majesty in simplicity which is far above all the quaintness of wit.
At every word a reputation dies.
Words are like leaves, and where they most abound, Much fruit of sense beneath is rarely found
There Affectation, with a sickly mien,
Shows in her cheek the roses of eighteen
All are but parts of one stupendous whole whose body Nature is, and God the soul.
To endeavor to work upon the vulgar with fine sense is like attempting to hew blocks with a razor.
From vulgar bounds with brave disorder part, And snatch a grace beyond the reach of art.
Education forms the common mind. Just as the twig is bent, the tree's inclined.
Be not the first by whom the new are tried, Nor yet the last to lay the old aside.
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