The blood will follow where the knife is driven, The flesh will quiver where the pincers tear.
[The] public path of life Is dirty.
A land of levity is a land of guilt.
Affliction is a good man's shining time.
I've known my lady (for she loves a tune) For fevers take an opera in June: And, though perhaps you'll think the practice bold, A midnight park is sov'reign for a cold.
What tender force, what dignity divine, what virtue consecrating every feature; around that neck what dross are gold and pearl!