Oh, Poverty Parts Good Company.

The Misery Of Keeping A Dog Is His Dying So Soon. But, To Be Sure, If He Lived For Fifty Years And Then Died, What Would Become Of Me?

Now, It Is Well Known, That A Man May With More Impunity Be Guilty Of An Actual Breach Either Of Real Good Breeding Or Of Good Morals, Than Appear Ignorant Of The Most Minute Point Of Fashionable Etiquette.

Adversity Is, To Me At Least, A Tonic And A Bracer.

What Various Scenes, And O! What Scenes Of Woe, Are Witness'd By That Red And Struggling Beam! The Fever'd Patient, From His Pallet Low, Through Crowded Hospitals Beholds It Stream; The Ruined Maiden Trembles At Its Gleam, The Debtor Wakes To Thought Of Gyve And Jail, The Love-lorn Wretch Starts From Tormenting Dream; The Wakeful Mother, By The Glimmering Pale, Trims Her Sick Infant's Couch, And Soothes His Feeble Wail.

Each Age Has Deemed The New-born Year The Fittest Time For Festal Cheer.