A Poore Beauty Finds More Lovers Then

My House, My House, Though Thou Art Small, Thou Art To Me The Escurial.

Woe To The House Where There Is No Chiding.

He That Will Take The Bird, Must Not Skare It.

Light Burdens, Long Borne, Grow Heavy.

Play Not For Gain, But Sport. Who Plays For More Than He Can Lose With Pleasure, Stakes His Heart; Perhaps His Wife's Too, And Whom She Hath Bore.