No Retreat. No Retreat. They Must Conquer

Some Folks Of Cider Make A Rout And Cider's Well Enough No Doubt When Better Liquors Fail; But Wine, That's Richer, Better Still, Ev'n Wine Itself (deny't Who Will) Must Yield To Nappy Ale

Lest Men Suspect Your Tale Untrue, Keep Probability In View.

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

A Rich Rogue Nowadays Is Fit Company For Any Gentleman; And The World, My Dear, Hath Not Such A Contempt For Roguery As You Imagine.

Twas When The Seas Were Roaring With Hollow Blasts Of Wind, A Damsel Lay Deploring, All On A Rock Reclined.