If Fortune Torments Me, Hope Contents Me.

In God's Name Cheerly On, Courageous Friends, To Reap The Harvest Of Perpetual Peace By This One Bloody Trial Of Sharp War.

Where The Bee Sucks, There Suck I In The Cow-slip's Bell I Lie There I Couch When Owls Do Cry

Fat Paunches Have Lean Pates, And Dainty Bits Make Rich The Ribs, But Backrout Quite The Wits.

Better A Little Chiding Than A Great Deal Of Heartbreak.

Ay Me! Sad Hours Seem Long.