Placed On This Isthmus Of A Middle

Be Silent Always When You Doubt Your Sense.

Wine Lets No Lover Unrewarded Go.

The Lamb Thy Riot Dooms To Bleed Today, Had He Thy Reason, Would He Skip And Play? Pleas'd To The Last He Crops The Flow'ry Food, And Licks The Hand Just Rais'd To Shed His Blood.

'tis Not Enough Your Counsel Still Be True; Blunt Truths More Mischief Than Nice Falsehoods Do.

Not Always Actions Show The Man; We Find Who Does A Kindness Is Not Therefore Kind.