I Will Praise Any Man That Will

Cease Thy Counsel, For Thy Words Fall Into My Ears As Priceless As Water Into A Seive.

Well Could He Ride, And Often Men Would Say, "that Horse His Mettle From His Rider Takes: Proud Of Subjection, Noble By The Sway, What Rounds, What Bounds, What Course, What Stop He Makes!" And Controversy Hence A Question Takes, Whether The Horse By Him Became His Deed, Or He His Manage By The Well-doing Steed.

The Man That Hath No Music In Himself

Lord Bacon Told Sir Edward Coke When He Was Boasting, The Less You Speak Of Your Greatness, The More Shall I Think Of It.

The Barge She Sat In, Like A Burnish'd Throne, Burnt On The Water.