It Is Tedious To Tell Again Tales

To Have A Great Man For An Intimate Friend Seems Pleasant To Those Who Have Never Tried It; Those Who Have, Fear It.

Two Urns On Jove's High Throne Have Ever Stood, The Source Of Evil One, And One Of Good; From Thence The Cup Of Mortal Man He Fills, Blessings To These, To Those Distributes Ills; To Most He Mingles Both.

Ah, Good Ol’ Trustworthy Beer. My Love For You Will Never Die.

Urge Him With Truth To Frame His Fair Replies And Sure He Will For Wisdom Never Lies.

How Vain, Without The Merit, Is The Name.