Ill fares the land, to hastening ills a prey, Where wealth accumulates, and men decay.

A night-cap deck'd his brows instead of bay,- A cap by night, a stocking all the day.

The bashful virgin's sidelong looks of love.

Man wants but little here below, Nor wants that little long.

One man is born with a silver spoon in his mouth, and the other with a wooden ladle.

Such dainties to them, their health it might hurt; It 's like sending them ruffles when wanting a shirt.

Who pepper'd the highest was surest to please.