It Is A Wretched Thing

Here We All Live In A State Of Ambitious Poverty.

So Much Greater Is Our Thirst For Glory Than For Virtue.

Rarely They Rise By Virtue's Aid Who Lie Plunged In The Depth Of Helpless Poverty.

The Abject Pleasure Of An Abject Mind And Hence So Dear To Poor Weak Woman Kind. [lat., Vindicta Nemo Magis Gaudet, Quam Femina.]

All Arts His Own, The Hungry Greekling Counts; And Bid Him Mount The Skies, The Skies He Mounts.