Griefs Assured Are Felt Before They Come.

Her Wit Was More Than Man, Her Innocence A Child.

Content With Poverty, My Soul I Arm; And Virtue, Though In Rags, Will Keep Me Warm.

A Happy Genius Is The Gift Of Nature.

He Trudged Along Unknowing What He Sought, And Whistled As He Went, For Want Of Thought.

The World To Bacon Does Not Only Owe It's Present Knowledge, But Its Future Too.