The Alexandria Herald

MISCELLANY

SOUND ARGUMENT.

We bipeds made out of frail clay,
Alas! are the children of sorrow,
And tho' brisk and merry to-day,
We may be wretched to-morrow
For sunshine's succeeded by rain,
Then fearful of life's stormy weather
Lest pleasure should only bring pain,
Let us all be happy together.

I grant the best blessing we know,
Is a friend, for true friendship's a treasure,
And yet lest your friend prove a foe,
Oh taste not the dangerous pleasure :
Thus friendship's a flimsy affair,
Thus riches and health are a bubble.
Thus there's nothing delightful but care,
Nor any thing pleasure but trouble.

If a mortal would point out a life,
That on earth would be nearest to heav'n,
Let him thanking his stars, choose a wife,
To whom truth and honor are given:
But honor and truth are so rare,
And horns when they're sprouting so single,
That with all due respect to the fair,
I'd advise him to sigh and live single:

It appears from these premises plain,
That wisdom is nothing but folly,
That pleasure's a term that means pain,
And that joy is our true melancholy :
That all those who laugh ought to cry,
That 'tis fine fun to be grieving,
And that, since we must all of us die,
We will taste no enjoyment while living.