How, Like A Moth, The Simple Maid

Of All Mechanics, Of All Servile Handycrafts-men, A Gamester Is The Vilest. But Yet, As Many Of The Quality Are Of The Profession, He Is Admitted Amongst The Politest Company.

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

To Shoot At Crows Is Powder Flung Away.

I Cannot Raise My Worth Too High; Of What Vast Consequence Am I! "not Of The Importance You Suppose," Replies A Flea Upon His Nose; "be Humble, Learn Thyself To Scan; Know, Pride Was Never Made For Man.

Were I Laid On Greenland's Coast, And In My Arms Embrac'd My Lass; Warm Amidst Eternal Frost, Too Soon The Half Year's Night Would Pass.