Surely The Best Way To Meet The

Age, That Lessens The Enjoyment Of Life, Increases Our Desire Of Living

Near Yonder Thorn, That Lifts Its Head On High, Where Once The Sign-post Caught The Passing Eye, Low Lies That House Where Nut-brown Draughts Inspired, Where Graybeard Mirth And Smiling Toil Retired, Where Village Statesmen Talk'd With Looks Profound, And News Much Older Than Their Ale Went Round.

Amid Thy Desert-walks The Lapwing Flies, And Tires Their Echoes With Unvaried Cries.

To Be Poor, And To Seem Poor, Is A Certain Method Never To Rise.

I Have Known A German Prince With More Titles Than Subjects, And A Spanish Nobleman With More Names Than Shirts.