How Hard A Thing 'twould Be To

Blessings Ever Wait On Virtuous Deeds, And Though A Late, A Sure Reward Succeeds.

Thou Art A Retailer Of Phrases, And Dost Deal In Remnants Of Remnants.

There Are Come Critics So With Spleen Diseased, They Scarcely Come Inclining To Be Pleased: And Sure He Must Have More Than Mortal Skill, Who Please One Against His Will.

She Once Used Me With That Insolence, That In Revenge I Took Her To Pieces; Sifted Her, And Separated Her Failings; I Studied 'em, And Got 'em By Rote. The Catalogue Was So Large, That I Was Not Without Hopes, One Day Or Other To Hate Her Heartily.

I Find We Are Growing Serious, And Then We Are In Great Danger Of Being Dull.