Some cry up Haydn, some Mozart, Just as the whim bites. For my part, I do not care a farthing candle For either of them, nor for Handel.

When my sonnet was rejected, I exclaimed, 'Damn the age; I will write for Antiquity!'

Can we ring the bells backward? Can we unlearn the arts that pretend to civilize, and then burn the world? There is a march of science; but who shall beat the …

Riddle of destiny, who can show What thy short visit meant, or know What thy errand here below?