The Laughers Are A Majority.

Chaste To Her Husband, Frank To All Beside, A Teeming Mistress, But A Barren Bride.

Ah! Why, Ye Gods, Should Two And Two Make Four?

He Knows To Live Who Keeps The Middle State, And Neither Leans On This Side Nor On That.

Curse On All Laws But Those Which Love Has Made.

Oh! If To Dance All Night, And Dress All Day, Charm'd The Small-pox, Or Chas'd Old Age Away; . . . . To Patch, Nay Ogle, Might Become A Saint, Nor Could It Sure Be Such A Sin To Paint.