So Comes A Reck'ning When

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

From Kings To Cobblers 'tis The Same; Bad Servants Wound Their Masters' Fame.

To Frame The Little Animal, Provide All The Gay Hues That Wait On Female Pride: Let Nature Guide Thee; Sometimes Golden Wire The Shining Bellies Of The Fly Require; The Peacock's Plumes Thy Tackle Must Not Fail, Nor The Dear Purchase Of The Sable's Tail.

Learning By Study Must Be Won; 'twas Ne'er Entail'd From Son To Son.

The Fly That Sips Treacle Is Lost In The Sweets.