My Lodging Is On The

Who Friendship With A Knave Hath Made, Is Judged A Partner In The Trade.

Is There No Hope? The Sick Man Said, The Silent Doctor Shook His Head, And Took His Leave With Signs Of Sorrow, Despairing Of His Fee To-morrow.

What Will Not Luxury Taste? Earth, Sea, And Air, Are Daily Ransack'd For The Bill Of Fare. Blood Stuffed In Skins Is British Christians' Food, And France Robs Marshes Of The Croaking Brood.

Cowards Are Cruel, But The Brave Love Mercy And Delight To Save.

There Is No Dependence That Can Be Sure But A Dependence Upon One's Self.