Either of these shall serve: to-night the breast,
The heels i’ th’ morning, then light meat is best;
At night he took the breast and did not pay,
I’ th’ morning took his heels, and ran away.
The Fate of Poets.
Seven wealthy towns contend for Homer dead,
Through which the living Homer begged his bread.
On an old Woman with false Hair.
The golden hair that Galla wears
Is hers: who would have thought it!