One Wife Is Too Much For Most

My Lodging Is On The Cold Ground, And Hard, Very Hard, Is My Fare, But That Which Grieves Me More Is The Coldness Of My Dear.

Man May Escape From Rope And Gun; Nay, Some Have Outlived The Doctor's Pill: Who Takes A Woman Must Be Undone, That Basilisk Is Sure To Kill. The Fly That Sips Treacle Is Lost In The Sweets, So He That Tastes Woman, Woman, Woman, He That Tastes Woman, Ruin Meets.

No Author Ever Spar'd A Brother.

The Careful Insect 'midst His Works I View, Now From The Flowers Exhaust The Fragrant Dew, With Golden Treasures Load His Little Thighs, And Steer His Distant Journey Through The Skies.

Nor Love, Not Honor, Wealth Nor Power, Can Give The Heart A Cheerful Hour When Health Is Lost. Be Timely Wise; With Health All Taste Of Pleasure Flies.