O blissful poverty! Nature, too partial! to thy lot assigns Health, freedom, innocence, and downy peace, Her real goods: and only mocks the great Wit… - Elijah Fenton

A while she stood
Transformed by grief to marble, and appeared
Her own pale monument; but when she breathed
The secret anguish of her wounded soul,
So moving were the plaints! they would have soothed
The stooping falcon to suspend his flight,
And spare his morning prey.

Wedded love is founded on esteem.

Fear, guilt, despair, and moon-struck frenzy rush
On voluntary death: the wise and brave,
When the fierce storms of fortune round 'em roar,
Combat the billows with redoubled force:
Then, if they perish ere the port is gained,
They sink with decent pride; and from the deep
Honour retrieves them, bright as rising stars.