On The Four Aces Doom'd To Roll.

With Various Readings Stored His Empty Skull, Learn'd Without Sense, And Venerably Dull.

Old Age, A Second Child, By Nature Curst With More And Greater Evils Than The First, Weak, Sickly, Full Of Pains: In Ev'ry Breath Railing At Life, And Yet Afraid Of Death.

Keep Up Appearances; There Lies The Test. The World Will Give Thee Credit For The Rest.

Most Of Those Evils We Poor Mortals Know From Doctors And Imagination Flow.

If Honor Calls, Where'er She Points The Way The Sons Of Honor Follow, And Obey.