Those Who Raise Envy Will Easily Incur

Childhood, Who Like An April Morn Appears, Sunshine And Rain, Hopes Clouded O'er With Fears.

On The Four Aces Doom'd To Roll.

A Joke's A Very Serious Thing.

Old Age, A Second Child, By Nature Curst With More And Greater Evils Than The First, Weak, Sickly, Full Of Pains: In Ev'ry Breath Railing At Life, And Yet Afraid Of Death.

Who, With Tame Cowardice Familiar Grown, Would Hear My Thoughts, But Fear To Speak Their Own.