John Gay

What boots it on the lineal tree to trace
Through many a branch the founders of our race.

What boots it on the lineal tree to trace
Through many a branch the founders of our race.

What will not luxury taste? Earth, sea, and air,
Are daily ransack'd for the bill of fare.
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What will not luxury taste? Earth, sea, and air,
Are daily ransack'd for the bill of fare.
Blood stuffed in skins is British Christians' food,
And France robs marshes of the croaking brood.

Good housewives all the winter's rage despise,
Defended by the riding-hood's disguise;
Or, underneath the umbrella's oily read more

Good housewives all the winter's rage despise,
Defended by the riding-hood's disguise;
Or, underneath the umbrella's oily shade,
Safe through the wet on clinking pattens tread,
Let Persian dames the unbrella's ribs display,
To guard their beauties from the sunny ray;
Or sweating slaves support the shady load,
When eastern monarchs show their state abroad;
Britain in winter only knows its aid,
To guard from chilling showers the walking maid.

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

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

Life is a jest; and all things show it.
I thought so once; but now I know it.

Life is a jest; and all things show it.
I thought so once; but now I know it.