Edward Moore

"This is adding insult to injuries."

"Time still, as he flies, brings increase to her truth, And gives to her mind what he steals from her youth."

"But beauty has wings, and too hastily flies, And love, unrewarded, soon sickens and dies."

"Can’t I another’s face commend, And to her virtues be a friend, But instantly your forehead lours, As if her merit lessen’d yours?"

"The maid who modestly conceals Her beauties, while she hides, reveals; Give but a glimpse, and fancy draws Whate’er the Grecian Venus was."

"But from the hoop’s bewitching round, Her very shoe has power to wound."

"I'll tell thee what it [the world] says: it calls me a villain: a treacherous husband; a cruel father; a false brother; one lost to nature and her charities; or, to say all in one short word, it calls me—gamester."

"I am rich beyond the dreams of avarice."

"’Tis now the summer of your youth: time has not cropt the roses from your cheek, though sorrow long has washed them."

"Labour for his pains."