John Gay

How bless'd, how envied, were our life,
Could we but scape the poulterer's knife!
But man, curs'd read more

How bless'd, how envied, were our life,
Could we but scape the poulterer's knife!
But man, curs'd man, on Turkeys preys,
And Christmas shortens all our days:
Sometimes with oysters we combine,
Sometimes assist the savory chine;
From the low peasant to the lord,
The Turkey smokes on every board.

The careful insect 'midst his works I view,
Now from the flowers exhaust the fragrant dew,
With read more

The careful insect 'midst his works I view,
Now from the flowers exhaust the fragrant dew,
With golden treasures load his little thighs,
And steer his distant journey through the skies.

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.

Why is the hearse with scutcheons blazon'd round,
And with the nodding plume of ostrich crown'd?
No; read more

Why is the hearse with scutcheons blazon'd round,
And with the nodding plume of ostrich crown'd?
No; the dead know it not, nor profit gain;
It only serves to prove the living vain.

Basically, I no longer work for anything but the sensation I have
while working.

Basically, I no longer work for anything but the sensation I have
while working.