Fool Beckons Fool, And Dunce Awakens Dunce.

England, A Happy Land We Know, Where Follies Naturally Grow, Where Without Culture They Arise, And Tow'r Above The Common Size.

England A Fortune-telling Host, As Num'rous As The Stars, Could Boast; Matrons, Who Toss The Cup, And See The Grounds Of Fate In Grounds Of Tea.

Who Shall Dispute What The Reviewers Say? Their Word's Sufficient; And To Ask A Reason, In Such A State As Theirs, Is Downright Treason.

Wit, Who Never Once Forgave A Brother, Shall Forgive A Dunce.

The More Haste, Ever The Worst Speed.