For his chaste Muse employ'd her heaven-taught lyre
None but the noblest passions to inspire,
Not one immoral, one corrupted thought,
One line which, dying, he could wish to blot.
Prologue to Thomson's Coriolanus.
Women, like princes, find few real friends.
Advice to a Lady.
What is your sex's earliest, latest care,
Your heart's supreme ambition? To be fair.
Advice to a Lady.