Though Folly, Robed In Purple, Shines, Though

Nature, Through All Her Works, In Great Degree, Borrows A Blessing From Variety. Music Itself Her Needful Aid Requires To Rouse The Soul, And Wake Our Dying Fires.

A Joke's A Very Serious Thing.

England A Fortune-telling Host, As Num'rous As The Stars, Could Boast; Matrons, Who Toss The Cup, And See The Grounds Of Fate In Grounds Of Tea.

Constant Attention Wears The Active Mind, Blots Out Our Pow'rs, And Leaves A Blank Behind.

Nor Waste Their Sweetness In The Desert Air.