Tis Thus The Mercury Of Man Is

No Louder Shrieks To Pitying Heaven Are Cast, When Husbands Or Lap-dogs Breathe Their Last.

What Is Fame? A Fancied Life In Others' Breath.

For Thee I Dim These Eye And Stuff This Head With All Such Reading As Was Never Read.

What Can Ennoble Sots, Or Slaves, Or Cowards? Alas! Not All The Blood, Of All The Howards.

What Some Call Health, If Purchased By Perpetual Anxiety About Diet, Isn't Much Better Than Tedious Disease.