To Have Slaved So Many Years For

Autumn Is The Harvest Of Greedy Death.

The Love Of Popularity Holds You In A Vice.

Virture Offers The Only Path In This Life That Leads To Tranquility.

There's No Effrontery Like That Of A Woman Caught In The Act; Her Very Guilt Inspires Her With Wrath And Insolence.

Drooping Along The Ground The Vine Misses Its Widowed Elm.