O, How Wretched Is That Poor Man

Let The Galled Jade Wince; Our Withers Are Unwrung.

So Get The Start Of The Majestic World And Bear The Palm Alone.

Things Sweet To Taste Prove In Digestion Sour.

Oh, Injurious Love, That Respites Me A Life, Whose Very Comfort Is Still A Dying Horror

Thou Know'st 'tis Common; All That Lives Must Die, Passing Through Nature To Eternity.