The Last Taste Of Sweets Is Sweetest

Honour Travels In A Strait So Narrow Where One But Goes Abreast.

Short Time Seems Long In Sorrow's Sharp Sustaining.

Small To Greater Matters Must Give Way.

A Good Leg Will Fall; A Straight Back Will Stoop; A Black Beard Will Turn White; A Curl'd Pate Will Grow Bald; A Fair Face Will Wither; A Full Eye Will Wax Hollow: But A Good Heart, Kate, Is The Sun And The Moon; Or, Rather, The Sun, And Not The Moon, — For It Shines Bright, And Never Changes, But Keeps His Course Truly.

Hear My Soul Speak. Of The Very Instant That I Saw You, Did My Heart Fly At Your Service