Who Friendship With A Knave Hath Made,

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

Youth's The Season Made For Joys, Love Is Then Our Duty.

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.

Let Firm, Well Hammer'd Soles Protect Thy Feet Through Freezing Snows, And Rains, And Soaking Sleet; Should The Big Last Extend The Shoe Too Wide, Each Stone Will Wrench The Unwary Step Aside; The Sudden Turn May Stretch The Swelling Vein, The Cracking Joint Unhinge, Or Ankle Sprain; And When Too Short The Modish Shoes Are Worn, You'll Judge The Seasons By Your Shooting Corn.

Thus Shadow Owes Its Birth To Light.