Love's Best Habit Is A Soothing Tongue

Mean And Mighty, Rotting Together, Have One Dust.

Nor Age So Eat Up My Invention.

I Am As True As Truth's Simplicity, And Simpler Than The Infancy Of Truth.

What Valor Were It, When A Cur Doth Grin, For One To Thrust His Hand Between His Teeth, When He Might Spurn Him With His Foot Away?

Fat Paunches Have Lean Pates, And Dainty Bits Make Rich The Ribs, But Backrout Quite The Wits.