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Oft the cloud that wraps the present hour serves but to brighten all our future days. - [Affliction] For those sacred powers Tread on oblivion: no desert of ours Can be entombed in their celestial breasts. - Britannia's Pastorals (bk. III, song II, st. 23) [Oblivion] Whose life is a bubble, and in length a span. - Brittania Pastorals (bk. I, song II) [Life] Well languag'd Danyel. - Brittania's Pastorals (bk. II, song 2, l. 303) [Language] The king to Oxford sent a troop of horse, For Tories own no argument but force; With equal care, to Cambridge books he sent, For Whigs allow no force but argument. - Epigram--In reply to Dr. Trapp [Learning] If heaven send no supplies, The fairest blossom of the garden dies. - Visions (ch. V) [Providence]
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