Beauty Is The Lover's Gift.

Blessings Ever Wait On Virtuous Deeds, And Though A Late, A Sure Reward Succeeds.

Defer Not Till To-morrow To Be Wise, To-morrow's Sun To Thee May Never Rise; Or Should To-morrow Chance To Cheer Thy Sight With Her Enlivening And Unlook'd For Light, How Grateful Will Appear Her Dawning Rays! As Favours Unexpected Doubly Please.

Beauty Is The Lover's Gift.

A Little Scorn Is Alluring.

There Are Come Critics So With Spleen Diseased, They Scarcely Come Inclining To Be Pleased: And Sure He Must Have More Than Mortal Skill, Who Please One Against His Will.