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— William Cowper"Remorse, the fatal egg by pleasure laid, In every bosom where her nest is made, Hatched by the beams of truth, denies him rest, And proves a raging scorpion in his breast."
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Some must delve when the dawn is nigh; Some must toil when the noonday beams; But when might comes, and the soft winds sigh, Every man is a King of Dreams.
— Clinton Scollard
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Golden volumes! richest treasures, Objects of delicious pleasures! You my eyes rejoicing please, You my hand in rapture seize! Brilliant wits and musing sages, Lights who beam'd through many ages! Left to your conscious leaves their story, And dared to trust you with their glory; And now their hope of fame achiev'd, Dear volumes! you have not deceived!
— Isaac D'Israeli
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