This house is to be let for life or years; Her rent is sorrow, and her income tears. Cupid, 't has long stood void; her bills make known, She must be dearly let, or let alone.

Death aims with fouler spite At fairer marks.

Sweet Phosphor, bring the day Whose conquering ray May chase these fogs; Sweet Phosphor, bring the day! Sweet Phosphor, bring the day! Light will repay The wro…

The world's an Inn; and I her guest.