They Are But Beggars That Can Count

Look, What Envious Streaks Do Lace The Severing Clouds In Yonder East! Night's Candles Are Burnt Out, And Jocund Day Stands Tip-toe On The Misty Mountain-tops.

Heaven Is Above All Yet; There Sits A Judge, That No King Can Corrupt.

Let's Meet As Little As We Can

I Pardon Him, As God Shall Pardon Me.

Remuneration! O! That's The Latin Word For Three Farthings