O, Nothing Is More Alluring Than A

Defer Not Till To-morrow To Be Wise, To-morrow's Sun To Thee May Never Rise; Or Should To-morrow Chance To Cheer Thy Sight With Her Enlivening And Unlook'd For Light, How Grateful Will Appear Her Dawning Rays! As Favours Unexpected Doubly Please.

I Know A Lady That Loves To Talk So Incessantly, She Won't Give An Echo Fair Play; She Has That Everlasting Rotation Of Tongue That An Echo Must Wait Till She Dies Before It Can Catch Her Last Words!

Courtship Is To Marriage, As A Very Witty Prologue To A Very Dull Play.

To Converse With Scandal Is To Play At Losing Loadum, You Must Lose A Good Name To Him, Before You Can Win It For Yourself.

O, She Is The Antidote To Desire.