We Waste Our Lights In Vain, Like

Join Not With Grief, Fair Woman, Do Not So, To Make My End Too Sudden.

What Can Be Happier Than For A Man, Conscious Of Virtuous Acts, And Content With Liberty, To Despise All Human Affairs?

Virtue Itself Turns Vice, Being Misapplied, And Vice Sometime By Action Dignified.

Be Merry; You Have Cause, So Have We All, Of Joy; For Our Escape Is Much Beyond Our Loss . . . . Then Wisely Weigh Our Sorrow With Our Comfort.

Tis The Mind That Makes The Body Rich.