There Are No Tricks In Plain And

For Sweetest Things Turn Sourest By Their Deeds; Lillies That Fester Smell Far Worse Than Weeds.

Barnes Are Blessings.

How Sometimes Nature Will Betray Its Folly, Its Tenderness, And Make Itself A Pastime To Harder Bosoms!

I Myself Am Best When Least In Company.

This England Never Did, Nor Never Shall, Lie At The Proud Foot Of A Conqueror, But When It First Did Help To Wound Itself. Now These Her Princes Are Come Home Again, Come The Three Corners Of The World In Arms, And We Shall Shock Them. Nought Shall Make Us Rue, If England To Itself Do Rest But True.