Faults That Are Rich Are Fair.

Love's Stories Written In Love's Richest Books. To Fan The Moonbeams From His Sleeping Eyes.

That Which Ordinary Men Are Fit For, I Am Qualified In. And The Best Of Me Is Diligence.

O World, World! Thus Is The Poor Agent Despised. O Traitors And Bawds, How Earnestly Are You Set A-work, And How Ill Requited! Why Should Our Endeavor Be So Loved, And The Performance So Loathed?

Th Abuse Of Greatness Is When It Disjoins Remorse From Power.

Manhood Is Melted Into Courtesies, Valor Into Compliment, And Men Are Only Turned Into Tongue, And Trim Ones, Too.