In Love We Are All Fools Alike.

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.

Lions, Wolves, And Vultures Don't Live Together In Herds, Droves Or Flocks. Of All Animals Of Prey, Man Is The Only Sociable One. Every One Of Us Preys Upon His Neighbor, And Yet We Herd Together.

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

Some Folks Of Cider Make A Rout And Cider's Well Enough No Doubt When Better Liquors Fail; But Wine, That's Richer, Better Still, Ev'n Wine Itself (deny't Who Will) Must Yield To Nappy Ale

Look Round, The Wrecks Of Play Behold; Estates Dismember'd, Mortgaged, Sold! Their Owners Now To Jails Confin'd, Show Equal Poverty Of Mind.