I Am A Fool, I Know It;

Beauty Is The Lover's Gift.

Love's But A Frailty Of The Mind, When 'tis Not With Ambition Joined.

Defer Not Till To-morrow To Be Wise, To-morrow's Sun To Thee May Never Rise; Or Should To-morrow Chance To Cheer Thy Sight With Her Enlivening And Unlook'd For Light, How Grateful Will Appear Her Dawning Rays! As Favours Unexpected Doubly Please.

Invention Flags, His Brain Goes Muddy, And Black Despair Succeeds Brown Study.

Come, Come, Leave Business To Idlers, And Wisdom To Fools: They Have Need Of 'em: Wit Be My Faculty, And Pleasure My Occupation, And Let Father Time Shake His Glass.