So Over Violent, Or Over Civil That

Keen Appetite And Quick Digestion Wait On You And Yours.

The Bravest Men Are Subject Most To Chance.

Softly Sweet, In Lydian Measures, Soon He Sooth'd His Soul To Pleasures. War, He Sung, Is Toil And Trouble; Honour But An Empty Bubble; Never Ending, Still Beginning, Fighting Still, And Still Destroying. If All The World Be Worth The Winning, Think, Oh Think It Worth Enjoying: Lovely Thais Sits Beside Thee, Take The Good The Gods Provide Thee.

Could Swell The Soul To Rage, Or Kindle Soft Desire.

You See Through Love, And That Deludes Your Sight, As What Is Straight Seems Crooked Through The Water.