Tomorrow is a satire on today, And shows its weakness.
Revere thyself, and yet thyself despise
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.
On every thorn, delightful wisdom grows, In every rill a sweet instruction flows.
Read nature; nature is a friend to truth.
They most the world enjoy who least admire.