Distichs.

Chords are touch'd by Apollo, the death-laden bow, too, he bendeth;     While he the shepherdess charms, Python he lays in the dust.      -     What is merciful censure? To make thy faults appear smaller?     May be to veil them? No, no! O'er them to raise thee on high!      -     Democratic food soon cloys on the multitude's stomach;     But I'll wager, ere long, other thou'lt give them instead.      -     What in France has pass'd by, the Germans continue to practise,     For the proudest of men flatters the people and fawns.      -     Who is the happiest of men? He who values the merits of others,     And in their pleasure takes joy, even as though 'twere his own.      -     Not in the morning alone, not only at mid-day he charmeth;     Even at setting, the sun is still the same glorious planet.