You Must Confine Yourself Within The Modest

'tis The Soldier's Life To Have Their Balmy Slumbers Waked With Strife.

They Do Not Abuse The King That Flatter Him. For Flattery Is The Bellows Blows Up Sin; The Thing The Which Is Flattered, But A Spark To Which That Blast Gives Heat And Stronger Glowing.

A Woman Would Run Through Fire And Water For Such A Kind Heart.

And This, Our Life, Exempt From Public Haunt, Finds Tongues In Trees, Books In The Running Brooks, Sermons In Stones, And Good In Everything.

Ten Masts Make Not The Altitude Which Thou Hast Perpendicularly Fell. Thy Life's A Miracle.