In Hope To Merit Heaven By Making

Tis An Old Lesson; Time Approves It True, And Those Who Know It Best, Deplore It Most; When All Is Won That All Desire To Woo, The Paltry Prize Is Hardly Worth The Cost.

Few Things Surpass Old Wine; And They May Preach Who Please, The More Because They Preach In Vain

Egeria! Sweet Creation Of Some Heart Which Found No Mortal Resting-place So Fair As Thine Ideal Breast.

Heaven Gives Its Favourites-early Death.

Shakespeare's Name, You May Depend On It, Stands Absurdly Too High And Will Go Down.