Love Ceases To Be A Pleasure, When

A Brave World, Sir, Full Of Religion, Knavery, And Change: We Shall Shortly See Better Days.

Come Away; Poverty's Catching.

Variety Is The Soul Of Pleasure.

'twas But A Dream, Yet By My Heart I Knew, Which Still Was Panting, Part Of It Was True: Oh How I Strove The Rest To Have Believed; Ashamed And Angry To Be Undeceived!

Here Lies A Proof That Wit Can Never Be Defence Enough Against Mortality