Luxurious Kings Are To Their

The Unhappy Man, Who Once Has Trail'd A Pen, Lives Not To Please Himself, But Other Men; Is Always Drudging, Wastes His Life And Blood, Yet Only Eats And Drinks What You Think Good.

Of All The Tyrannies On Human Kind The Worst Is That Which Persecutes The Mind.

Ever A Glutton, At Another's Cost, But In Whose Kitchen Dwells Perpetual Frost.

Heaven Be Thanked, We Live In Such An Age, When No Man Dies For Love, But On The Stage.

Among Our Crimes Oblivion May Be Set.