A Joke's A Very Serious

Knaves Starve Not In The Land Of Fools.

The Stage I Chose--a Subject Fair And Free-- 'tis Yours--'tis Mine--'tis Public Property. All Common Exhibitions Open Lie, For Praise Or Censure, To The Common Eye. Hence Are A Thousand Hackney Writers Fed; Hence Monthly Critics Earn Their Daily Bread. This Is A General Tax Which All Must Pay, From Those Who Scribble, Down To Those Who Play.

The Surest Way To Health, Say What They Will, Is Never To Suppose We Shall Be Ill; Most Of The Ills Which We Poor Mortals Know From Doctors And Imagination Flow.

Drawn By Conceit From Reason's Plan How Vain Is That Poor Creature Man; How Pleas'd In Ev'ry Paltry Elf To Grate About That Thing Himself.

He Mouths A Sentence As Curs Mouth A Bone.