Mutual Love, The Crown Of All Our

Sweet Bird, That Shun The Noise Of Folly, Most Musical, Most Melancholy!

. . . For Beauty Stands In The Admiration Only Of Weak Minds Led Captive. Cease To Admire, And All Her Plumes Fall Flat And Shrink Into A Trivial Toy, At Every Sudden Slighting Quite Abash'd.

Goodness Thinks No Ill Where No Ill Seems.

In The Sweat Of Thy Face Thou Shalt Eat Bread, Till Thou Return Unto The Ground; For Thou Out Of The Ground Wast Taken; Know Thy Birth, For Dust Thou Art, And Shalt To Dust Return.

Wild Above Rule Or Art, Enormous Bliss.