Swift Was The Race, But

Time And Death Shall Depart And Say In Flying Love Has Found Out A Way To Live, By Dying.

Prodigious Actions May As Well Be Done, By Weaver's Issue, As The Prince's Son.

War Seldom Enters But Where Wealth Allures.

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

Let Grace And Goodness Be The Principal Loadstone Of Thy Affections.