Who Talks Much, Must Talk In Vain.

When We Risk No Contradiction, It Prompts The Tongue To Deal In Fiction.

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

Give Me, Kind Heaven, A Private Station, A Mind Serene For Contemplation.

What Happiness The Rural Maid Attends, In Cheerful Labour While Each Day She Spends! She Gratefully Receives What Heav'n Has Sent, And, Rich In Poverty, Enjoys Content.

I Know You Lawyers Can With Ease, Twist Words And Meanings As You Please; That Language, By Your Skill Made Pliant, Will Bend To Favour Every Client; That 'tis The Fee Directs The Sense, To Make Out Either Side's Pretense.