A kind and gentle heart he had, To comfort friends and foes; The naked every day he clad When he put on his… — Oliver Goldsmith

When lovely woman stoops to folly,

And finds too late that men betray,

What charm can soothe her melancholy,

What art can wash her guilt away?

We sometimes had those little rubs which Providence sends to enhance the value of its favors.

And in that town a dog was found,

As many dogs there be,

Both mongrel, puppy, whelp, and hound,

And curs of low degree.