But loves a malady without a cure. – John Dryden
Go miser go, for money sell your soul. Trade wares for wares and trudge from pole to pole, So others may say when you are dead and gone. See what a vast estate he left his son. – John Dryden

But loves a malady without a cure. – John Dryden
Go miser go, for money sell your soul. Trade wares for wares and trudge from pole to pole, So others may say when you are dead and gone. See what a vast estate he left his son. – John Dryden
Happy the man, and happy he alone, he who can call today his own he who, secure within, can say, tomorrow do thy worst, for I have lived today. – John Dryden