Alas! All Music Jars When The Soul's

Truly I Was Born To Be An Example Of Misfortune, And A Target At Which The Arrows Of Adversary Are Aimed.

I Had Rather Munch A Crust Of Brown Bread And An Onion In A Corner, Without Any More Ado Or Ceremony, Than Feed Upon Turkey At Another Man?s Table, Where One Is Fain To Sit Mincing And Chewing His Meat An Hour Together, Drink Little, Be Always Wiping His Fingers And His Chops, And Never Dare To Cough Nor Sneeze, Though He Has Never So Much A Mind To It, Nor Do A Many Things Which A Body May Do Freely By One?s Self.

Many Go Out For Wool, And Come Home Shorn Themselves.

To Be Good To The Vile Is To Throw Water Into The Sea.

Her Father Guarded Her, And She Guarded Herself; For There Are No Padlocks, Bolts, Or Bars, That Secure A Maiden Better Than Her Own Reserve.