Fame Is Nothing But An Empty Name.

The Scots Are Poor, Cries Surly English Pride; True Is The Charge, Nor By Themselves Denied. Are They Not Then In Strictest Reason Clear, Who Wisely Come To Mend Their Fortunes Here?

Man And Wife, Coupled Together For The Sake Of Strife.

With Curious Art The Brain, Too Finely Wrought, Preys On Herself, And Is Destroyed By Thought.

To Copy Faults Is Want Of Sense.

Fool Beckons Fool, And Dunce Awakens Dunce.