"The Test Act."
Would you the flower of friendship blight,
Or of its beauty dock it,
The blow need be but very light,
Just hit the breeches pocket.
Friendship's a pure and holy thing,
And in men's hearts we lock it;
Whilst often, mind, the secret spring
Lies in the breeches pocket.
Friendship shall bring you many friends,
Pray, therefore do not mock it;
But would you know how all this ends,
Just touch the breeches pocket.
The human breast is Friendship's hive,
With bees of love go stock it;
But oh! if you would have them thrive
Don't touch the breeches pocket.
Books to mankind are as the flowers to the bee. Read, therefore, I conjure ye; read! seeing that the spring and summer of your life is the proper season for laying in an useful stock of knowledge, which to the mind, like the well-stored hive to the bee, is a source of sustenance, when the dreary winter of old age sets in.
