Whence Is Thy Learning? Hath Thy Toil

Why Is The Hearse With Scutcheons Blazon'd Round, And With The Nodding Plume Of Ostrich Crown'd? No; The Dead Know It Not, Nor Profit Gain; It Only Serves To Prove The Living Vain.

The Charge Is Prepared; The Lawyers Are Met; The Judges All Ranged (a Terrible Show!) I Go, Undismay'd. For Death Is A Debt, A Debt On Demand. So Take What I Owe.

Look Round, The Wrecks Of Play Behold; Estates Dismember'd, Mortgaged, Sold! Their Owners Now To Jails Confin'd, Show Equal Poverty Of Mind.

What Frenzy Dictates, Jealousy Believes

Fill It Up. I Take As Large Draughts Of Liquor As I Did Of Love. I Hate A Flincher In Either.