Ay Me! Sad Hours Seem Long.

In A False Quarrel There Is No True Valor.

Our Very Eyes Are Sometimes, Like Our Judgments, Blind.

The Heavenly-harness'd Team Begins His Golden Progress In The East.

That, Sir, Which Serves And Seeks For Gain, And Follows But For Form, Will Pack, When It Begins To Rain, And Leave Thee In A Storm.

Let Me Embrace Thee, Sour Adversity, For Wise Men Say It Is The Wisest Course.