Meat Eaten Without Either Mirth Or Music

Sleep The Sleep That Knows Not Breaking, Morn Of Toil, Nor Night Of Waking.

There Is A Southern Proverb - Fine Words Butter No Parsnips.

Nothing Is More Completely The Child Of Art Than A Garden.

Who, Noteless As The Race From Which He Sprung, Saved Others' Names, But Left His Own Unsung.

Oh, Poverty Parts Good Company.