Charles, grave or merry, at no lie would stick,
And taught at length his mem'ry the same trick.
Believing thus, what he so oft repeats,
He's brought the thing to such a pass, poor youth!
That now himself, and no one else, he cheats,
Save when unluckily he tells the truth.

A N evil spirit's on thee, friend! of late —
Ev'n from the hour thou cam'st to thy estate.
Thy mirth all gone, thy kindness, thy discretion,
Th' estate has prov'd to thee a most complete possession .
Shame, shame, old friend! would'st thou be truly blest,
Be thy wealth's lord, not slave! possessor , not possess'd .