Hannah More. 1745-1833.
To those who know thee not, no words can paint!
And those who know thee, know all words are faint!
Sensibility.
Since trifles make the sum of human things,
And half our misery from our foibles springs.
Sensibility.
In men this blunder still you find,—
All think their little set mankind.
Florio. Part i.
Small habits well pursued betimes
May reach the dignity of crimes.
Florio. Part i.