The Art Of Poetry Is

The Man That Hails You Tom Or Jack, And Proves By Thumps Upon Your Back How He Esteems Your Merit, Is Such A Friend, That One Had Need Be Very Much His Friend Indeed To Pardon Or To Bear It.

No, Freedom Has A Thousand Charms To Show That Slaves, Howe'er Contented, Never Know.

Folly Ends Where Genuine Hope Begins.

Knowledge Is Proud That It Knows So Much; Wisdom Is Humble That It Knows No More.

Tea - The Cups That Cheer But Not Inebriate.