Men Are Apt To Offend

If Happiness In Self-content Is Placed, The Wise Are Wretched, And Fools Only Blessed.

Women Are Like Tricks By Sleight Of Hand, Which, To Admire, We Should Not Understand

In My Conscience I Believe The Baggage Loves Me, For She Never Speaks Well Of Me Herself, Nor Suffers Any Body Else To Rail At Me.

Thus Grief Still Treads Upon The Heels Of Pleasure; Married In Haste, We May Repent At Leisure.

One Minute Gives Invention To Destroy; What To Rebuild, Will A Whole Age Employ.