When We Risk No Contradiction,

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.

Beasts Kill For Hunger, Men For Pay.

No Author Ever Spar'd A Brother.

The Charge Is Prepared; The Lawyers Are Met; The Judges All Ranged (a Terrible Show!) I Go, Undismay'd. For Death Is A Debt, A Debt On Demand. So Take What I Owe.

Whence Is Thy Learning? Hath Thy Toil O'er Books Consumed The Midnight Oil?