From Kings To Cobblers 'tis The Same;

What Will Not Luxury Taste? Earth, Sea, And Air, Are Daily Ransack'd For The Bill Of Fare. Blood Stuffed In Skins Is British Christians' Food, And France Robs Marshes Of The Croaking Brood.

In Beauty Faults Conspicuous Grow; The Smallest Speck Is Seen On Snow.

To Frame The Little Animal, Provide All The Gay Hues That Wait On Female Pride: Let Nature Guide Thee; Sometimes Golden Wire The Shining Bellies Of The Fly Require; The Peacock's Plumes Thy Tackle Must Not Fail, Nor The Dear Purchase Of The Sable's Tail.

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.

No Author Ever Spar'd A Brother.