All Looks Yellow To A Jaundiced Eye.

No Creature Smarts So Little As A Fool.

A Field Of Glory Is A Field For All.

What Then Remains, But Well Our Power To Use, And Keep Good-humor Still Whate'er We Lose? And Trust Me, Dear, Good-humor Can Prevail, When Airs, And Flights, And Screams, And Scolding Fail.

Good-humor Only Teaches Charms To Last, Still Makes New Conquests And Maintains The Past.

Heaven Gave To Woman The Peculiar Grace To Spin, To Weep, And Cully Human Race.