Their works

Oft in danger, yet alive,
We are come to thirty-five;
Oft may better years arrive,
Better years than thirty-five.

Could philosophers contrive
Life to stop at thirty-five,
Time his hours should never drive
O’er the bounds of thirty-five.

High to soar, and deep to dive,
Nature gives at thirty-five.
Ladies— stock and tend your Hive,
Trifle not at thirty-five!

For howe’er we boast and strive,
Life declines from thirty-five.
He that ever hopes to thrive
Must begin by thirty-five;

And those who wisely wish to wive
Must look on Thrale at thirty-five.