Some one has said of a fine and honorable old age, that it was the childhood of immortality.
Every gift, though it be small, is in reality great if given with affection.
A fellow in a market town, Most musical, cried razors up and down.
Enjoy thy stream, O harmless fish; And when an angler for his dish, Through gluttony's vile sin, Attempts, the wretch, to pull thee out, God give thee strength, O gentle trout, To pull the rascal in!
Midas, they say, possessed the art of old; Of turning whatsoe'er he touch'd to gold; This modern statesmen can reverse with ease - Touch them with gold, they'll turn to what you please.