Pleas'd look forward, pleas'd to look behind,And count each birthday with a grateful mind.
As with narrow-necked bottles; the less they have in them, the more noise they make in pouring out.
Fair tresses man's imperial race ensnare; And beauty draws us with a single hair.
To the Elysian shades dismiss my soul, where no carnation fades.
A gen'rous heart repairs a sland'rous tongue.
Never find fault with the absent.