He That Dies Pays All Debts.

They Are Hare-brain'd Slaves.

I Can See His Pride Peep Through Each Part Of Him.

What Thing, In Honor, Had My Father Lost, That Need To Be Revived And Breathed In Me?

Conscience Doth Make Cowards Of Us All.

We Are Oft To Blame In This, - 'tis Too Much Proved, - That With Devotion's Visage, And Pios Action We Do Sugar O'er The Devil Himself.