Excerpt from Two Lyric Epistles: One to My Cousin Shandy, on His Coming to Town, And the Other to the Grown Gentlewomen, the Misses of

So when you're over head and ears in Debt,
You'll fume and fret,
When once you're wip'd clean, if you presume,
To plunge yourself again, - fret on and fume.
So when a Man has loft his Wife
He makes a pother,
But he deserves to lose his Life,
If he will venture on another.

So when a Miss just enters on her Teens
She makes a Coil,
Because she knows not what she means
- You lose your Labour and your Oyl.
But by and bye,
After you have taken your Degrees,
If you will try,
You'll be install'd with ease,
And you may take a Flight
Upright,
Like me,
And drop like Icarus into a vacant Sea.

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