O Love! For Sylvia Let Me Gain

The Character Of Covetousness, Is What A Man Generally Acquires More Through Some Niggardliness Or Ill Grace In Little And Inconsiderable Things, Than In Expenses Of Any Consequence.

Oh! If To Dance All Night, And Dress All Day, Charm'd The Small-pox, Or Chas'd Old Age Away; . . . . To Patch, Nay Ogle, Might Become A Saint, Nor Could It Sure Be Such A Sin To Paint.

Bear, Like The Turk, No Brother Near The Throne.

Praise Undeserved, Is Satire In Disguise.

A Brave Man Struggling In The Storms Of Fate, And Greatly Falling With A Falling State.