How Happy The Lover, How Easy His

Let Cheerfulness On Happy Fortune Wait.

He Who Trusts A Secret To His Servant Makes His Own Man His Master.

Death In Itself Is Nothing; But We Fear To Be We Know Not What, We Know Not Where.

Old Age Creeps On Us Ere We Think It Nigh.

Calms Appear, When Storms Are Past; Love Will Have His Hour At Last: Nature Is My Kindly Care; Mars Destroys, And I Repair; Take Me, Take Me, While You May, Venus Comes Not Ev'ry Day.