She Who Has Never Lov'd, Has Never

From Kings To Cobblers 'tis The Same; Bad Servants Wound Their Masters' Fame.

How, Like A Moth, The Simple Maid Still Plays Around The Flame!

I Never, With Important Air, In Conversation Overbear. . . . . My Tongue Within My Lips I Rein; For Who Talks Much Must Talk In Vain.

Let Firm, Well Hammer'd Soles Protect Thy Feet Through Freezing Snows, And Rains, And Soaking Sleet; Should The Big Last Extend The Shoe Too Wide, Each Stone Will Wrench The Unwary Step Aside; The Sudden Turn May Stretch The Swelling Vein, The Cracking Joint Unhinge, Or Ankle Sprain; And When Too Short The Modish Shoes Are Worn, You'll Judge The Seasons By Your Shooting Corn.

Who Friendship With A Knave Hath Made, Is Judged A Partner In The Trade.