I Am Resolved To Grow Fat, And

Raw In The Fields The Rude Militia Swarms, Mouth Without Hands; Maintained At Vast Expense, In Peace A Charge, In War A Weak Defence.

Ever A Glutton, At Another's Cost, But In Whose Kitchen Dwells Perpetual Frost.

My Love's A Noble Madness.

To Breed Up The Son To Common Sense Is Evermore The Parent's Least Expense.

Heaven Be Thanked, We Live In Such An Age, When No Man Dies For Love, But On The Stage.