John Gay

"Is there no hope?" the sick man said,
The silent doctor shook his head,
And took his read more

"Is there no hope?" the sick man said,
The silent doctor shook his head,
And took his leave with signs of sorrow,
Despairing of his fee to-morrow.

Let firm, well hammer'd soles protect thy feet
Through freezing snows, and rains, and soaking sleet;
Should read more

Let firm, well hammer'd soles protect thy feet
Through freezing snows, and rains, and soaking sleet;
Should the big last extend the shoe too wide,
Each stone will wrench the unwary step aside;
The sudden turn may stretch the swelling vein,
The cracking joint unhinge, or ankle sprain;
And when too short the modish shoes are worn,
You'll judge the seasons by your shooting corn.

I hate the man who builds his name
On ruins of another's fame.

I hate the man who builds his name
On ruins of another's fame.

My tongue within my lips I rein:
For who talks much must talk in vain.

My tongue within my lips I rein:
For who talks much must talk in vain.

For he as studious--of his ease.

For he as studious--of his ease.