To Friendship Every Burden's Light.

Fools May Our Scorn, Not Envy, Raise. For Envy Is A Kind Of Praise.

What Will Not Luxury Taste? Earth, Sea, And Air, Are Daily Ransack'd For The Bill Of Fare. Blood Stuffed In Skins Is British Christians' Food, And France Robs Marshes Of The Croaking Brood.

Sure Men Were Born To Lie, And Women To Believe Them!

What Happiness The Rural Maid Attends, In Cheerful Labour While Each Day She Spends! She Gratefully Receives What Heav'n Has Sent, And, Rich In Poverty, Enjoys Content.

I Cannot Raise My Worth Too High; Of What Vast Consequence Am I! "not Of The Importance You Suppose," Replies A Flea Upon His Nose; "be Humble, Learn Thyself To Scan; Know, Pride Was Never Made For Man.