Beasts Kill For Hunger, Men For Pay.

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.

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

Learning By Study Must Be Won; 'twas Ne'er Entail'd From Son To Son.

Do You Think Your Mother And I Should Have Lived Comfortably So Long Together, If Ever We Had Been Married? Baggage!

My Lodging Is On The Cold Ground, And Hard, Very Hard, Is My Fare, But That Which Grieves Me More Is The Coldness Of My Dear.