Nor Fame I Slight, Nor Her Favors

What Nature Wants, Commodious Gold Bestows; 'tis Thus We Cut The Bread Another Sows.

Know Then Thyself, Presume Not God To Scan; The Proper Study Of Mankind Is Man.

There Goes A Saying, And 'twas Shrewdly Said, ''old Fish At Table, But Young Flesh In Bed.

One Thought Of Thee Puts All The Pomp To Flight; Priests, Tapers, Temples, Swim Before My Sight.

A Mighty Maze! But Not Without A Plan.