Without One Friend, Above All Foes, Britannia

In Man Or Woman, But Far Most In Man, And Most Of All In Man That Ministers, And Serves The Altar, In My Soul I Loathe All Affectation. 'tis My Perfect Scorn: Object Of My Implacable Disgust.

I Pity Them Greatly, But I Must Be Mum, For How Could We Do Without Sugar And Rum?

Variety's The Very Spice Of Life, That Gives It All Its Flavor.

Nor Rural Sights Alone, But Rural Sounds, Exhilirate The Spirit, And Restore The Tone Of Languid Nature.

Existence Is A Strange Bargain. Life Owes Us Little; We Owe It Everything. The Only True Happiness Comes From Squandering Ourselves For A Purpose.