Never Find Fault With The Absent.

Behold The Groves That Shine With Silver Frost, Their Beauty Withered, And Their Verdure Lost!

Of Manners Gentle, Of Affections Mild; In Wit A Man; Simplicity, A Child.

Authors, Like Coins, Grow Dear As They Grow Old.

Order Is Heaven's First Law.

And Die Of Nothing But A Rage To Live.