Give, If Thou Can, An Alms; If

Give, If Thou Can, An Alms; If Not, A Sweet And Gentle Word.

Tears Are The Noble Language Of The Eye.

If Little Labour, Little Are Our Gains: Man's Fortunes Are According To His Pains.

Conquer We Shall, But, We Must First Contend! It's Not The Fight That Crowns Us, But The End.

But Here's The Sunset Of A Tedious Day, These Two Asleep Are; I'll But Be Undrest, And So To Bed. Pray Wish Us All Good Rest.