I Will Tear This Folly From My

The Schoolmaster Is Termed, Classically, Ludi Magister, Because He Deprives Boys Of Their Play.

Thou Hast Had Thty Day, Old Dame, But Thy Sun Has Long Been Set. Thou Art Now The Very Emblem Of An Old Warhorse Turned Out On The Barren Heath; Thou Hast Had Thy Paces In Thy Time, But Now A Broken Amble Is The Best Of Them.

Commend Me To Sterling Honesty Though Clad In Rags.

One Or Two Of These Scoundrel Statesmen Should Be Shot Once A-year, Just To Keep The Others On Their Good Behavior.

Thus Aged Men, Full Loth And Slow, The Vanities Of Life Forego, And Count Their Youthful Follies O'er, Till Memory Lends Her Light No More.