Alexander Pope

See! from the brake the whirring pheasant springs,
And mounts exulting on triumphant wings:
Short is his read more

See! from the brake the whirring pheasant springs,
And mounts exulting on triumphant wings:
Short is his joy; he feels the fiery wound,
Flutters in blood, and panting beats the ground.

Be niggards of advice on no pretense;
For the worst avarice is that of sense.

Be niggards of advice on no pretense;
For the worst avarice is that of sense.

Love, free as air at sight of human ties, Spreads his light wings, and in a moment flies.

Love, free as air at sight of human ties, Spreads his light wings, and in a moment flies.

Is not absence death to those who love?

Is not absence death to those who love?

Worth makes the man, and want of it the fellow;
The rest is all but leather and prunello.

Worth makes the man, and want of it the fellow;
The rest is all but leather and prunello.