A Jest's Prosperity Lies In The Ear

O, Let My Books Be Then The Eloquence And Dumb Presages Of My Speaking Breast.

Guiltiness Will Speak, Though Tongues Were Out Of Use

And, Looking On It With Lack-lustre Eye, Says Very Wisely, "it Is Ten O'clock: Thus We May See," Quoth He, "how The World Wags."

And What Art Thou, Thou Idol Ceremony? What Kind Of God Art Thou, That Suffer'st More Of Mortal Griefs Than Do Thy Worshippers?

Seek Happy Nights To Happy Days.w