"How blessings brighten as they take their flight."
"Tired nature's sweet restorer, balmy sleep! He, like the world, his ready visit pays Where fortune smiles; the wretched he forsakes."
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Source: 'The Complaint: Night Thoughts' (1742-5) 'Night 1' l. 1
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"Too low they build who build below the skies."
"Narcissus is the glory of his race: For who does nothing with a better grace?."
"A soul without reflection, like a pile Without inhabitant, to ruin runs."
"How poor, how rich, how abject, how august, How complicate, how wonderful, is man!... Midway from nothing to the Deity!"
"Early, bright, transient, chaste as morning dew, She sparkled, was exhaled, and went to heaven."