One Common Fate We Both Must Prove;

Of All The Fools That Pride Can Boast, A Coxcomb Claims Distinction Most.

The Sun Was Set; The Night Came On Apace, And Falling Dews Bewet Around The Place; The Bat Takes Airy Rounds On Leathern Wings, And The Hoarse Owl His Woeful Dirges Sings.

Youth's The Season Made For Joys, Love Is Then Our Duty.

To Friendship Every Burden's Light.

Who Hath Not Heard The Rich Complain Of Surfeits, And Corporeal Pain? He Barr'd From Every Use Of Wealth, Envies The Ploughman's Strength And Health.