A Name, It Has More

Fuss Is The Froth Of Business.

Gold! Gold! Gold! Gold! Bright And Yellow, Hard And Cold!

The Best Of Friends Fall Out, And So His Teeth Had Done Some Years Ago.

A Man That's Fond Precociously Of Stirring , :;:; Must Be A Spoon.

Whoe'er Has Gone Thro' London Street, Has Seen A Butcher Gazing At His Meat, And How He Keeps Gloating Upon A Sheep's Or Bullock's Personals, As If His Own; How He Admires His Halves And Quarters--and His Calves, As If In Truth Upon His Own Legs Grown.