The Volume Of Nature Is

I Fancy The Character Of A Poet Is In Every Country The Same,--fond Of Enjoying The Present, Careless Of The Future; His Conversation That Of A Man Of Sense, His Actions Those Of A Fool.

Thus Love Is The Most Easy And Agreeable, And Gratitude The Most Humiliating, Affection Of The Mind. We Never Reflect On The Man We Love Without Exulting In Our Choice, While He Who Has Bound Us To Him By Benefits Alone Rises To Our Ideas As A Person To Whom We Have In Some Measure Forfeited Our Freedom.

Friendship Is Made Up Of Esteem And Pleasure; Pity Is Composed Of Sorrow And Contempt: The Mind May For Some Time Fluctuate Between Them, But It Can Never Entertain Both At Once.

Blest Be Those Feasts, With Simple Plenty Crowned, Where All The Ruddy Family Around Laugh At The Jests Or Pranks That Never Fail Or Sigh With Pity At Some Mournful Tale.

Even Children Follow'd With Endearing Wile, And Pluck'd His Gown, To Share The Good Man's Smile.