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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=457223" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Old Gentry</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=457223" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">That all from Adam first began,<br>None but ungodly Whiston doubts,<br>And that his son and his son's son<br>Were all but ploughmen, clowns, and louts.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=457223" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Each when his rustic pains began<br>To merit pleaded equal right;<br>'Twas only who left off at noon,<br>Or who went on to work till night.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=457223" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">But coronets we owe to crowns,<br>And favour to a court's affection;<br>By nature we are Adam's sons,<br>And sons of Anstis by election.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=457223" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Kingsale! eight hundred years have roll'd<br>Since thy forefathers had the plough;<br>When this in story shall be told,<br>Add, that my kindred do so now.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=457223" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">The man who by his labour gets<br>His bread in independent state,<br>Who never begs, and seldom eats,<br>Himself can fix or change his fate.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Matthew+Prior">Matthew Prior</a></strong></div>