I bequeath to you my literary work. Useless though these might be commercially, they are the attar-drops distilled from the long and futile ebullience of my life.

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And being an ill-looked fellow, he has a pension from the church wardens for being bullbeggar to all the froward children in the parish.

1733–1737, Alexander Pope, [Imitations of Horace], London: […] R[obert] Dodsley [et al.]: