It Is The Nature Of Mortals To

Neither A Life Of Anarchy Nor A Life Under A Despot Should You Praise. To All That Lies In The Middle Has A God Given Excellence.

Ye Waves That O'er Th' Interminable Ocean Wreathe Your Crisped Smiles.

It Is A Profitable Thing, If One Is Wise, To Seem Foolish.

Every Ruler Is Harsh Whose Laws Is New.

Time, Waxing Old, Doth All Things Purify.