For In That Sleep Of Death What

Preferred Three Hours Quicker Over One Moment Late.

It Is Not Enough To Speak, But To Speak Truee

Hot Lavender, Mints, Savory, Marjoram; The Marigold, That Goes To Bed Wi' The Sun, And With Him Rise Weeping.

I Am Sir Oracle, And When I Ope My Lips, Let No Dog Bark.

Be Patient, For The World Is Broad And Wide.