No Villainous Bounty Yet Hath Passed My

My Free Drift Halts Not Particularly, But Moves Itself In A Wide Sea Of Wax; No Levelled Malice Infects One Comma In The Course I Hold, But Flies An Eagle Flight, Bold And Forth On, Leaving No Tract Behind.

His Life Was Gentle; And The Elements So Mixed In Him, That Nature Might Stand Up And Say To All The World, This Was A Man!

All That Glisters Is Not Gold; Often Have You Heard That Told: Many A Man His Life Hath Sold But My Outside To Behold: Gilded Tombs Do Worms Enfold.

This Making Of Christians Will Raise The Price Of Hogs.

The More Pity, That Fools May Not Speak Wisely What Wise Men Do Foolishly.