O Polly, You Might Have Toyed And

By Outward Show Let's Not Be Cheated; An Ass Should Like An Ass Be Treated.

Why Is The Hearse With Scutcheons Blazon'd Round, And With The Nodding Plume Of Ostrich Crown'd? No; The Dead Know It Not, Nor Profit Gain; It Only Serves To Prove The Living Vain.

Woman's Mind Oft' Shifts Her Passions, Like Th'inconstant Wind; Sudden She Rages, Like The Troubled Main, Now Sinks The Storm, And All Is Calm Again.

One Common Fate We Both Must Prove; You Die With Envy, I With Love.

Give Me, Kind Heaven, A Private Station, A Mind Serene For Contemplation.