Learning Is Better Worth Than Houses Or

But Jest Apart--what Virtue Canst Thou Trace In That Broad Trim That Hides Thy Sober Face? Does That Long-skirted Drab, That Over-nice And Formal Clothing, Prove A Scorn Of Vice? Then For Thine Accent--what In Sound Can Be So Void Of Grace As Dull Monotony?

The Coward Never On Himself Relies, But To An Equal For Assistance Flies.

Hence, In These Times, Untouch'd The Pages Lie, And Slumber Out Their Immortality.

Who Often Reads, Will Sometimes Wish To Write.

Our Farmers Round, Well Pleased With Constant Gain, Like Other Farmers, Flourish And Complain.