Such as she is, who died to-day, Such thou alas! mayst be to-morrow.

One science only will one genius fit, So vast is art, so narrow human wit.

To John I owed great obligation: But John unhandsomely thought fit To publish it to all the nation; Sure John and I are more than quit.

Love, well thou know'st no partnership allows, Cupid averse rejects divided vows.

Love and life are for to-day.

He that fights and runs away, Will live to fight another day; For he that runs may fight again, Which he can never do that's slain. Deeper to wound she shuns the fight; She drops her arms, to gain the field: Secures her conquest by her flight: And triumphs when she seems to yield.