Our Acts Our Angels Are,

I Find The Medicine Worse Than The Malady.

He Who Goes To Bed, And Goes To Bed Sober, Falls As The Leaves Do, And Dies In October; But He Who Goes To Bed, And Goes To Bed Mellow, Lives As He Ought To Do, And Dies An Honest Fellow.

Wine Works The Heart Up, Wakes The Wit; There Is No Cure 'gainst Age But It. And 'tis Late And Cold, Stir Up The Fire; Sit Close And Draw The Table Nigher; Be Merry And Drink Wine That Is Old, A Hearty Medicine 'gainst The Cold.

Go Far - Too Far You Cannot, Still The Farther. The More Experience Finds You: And Go Sparing. One Meal A Week Will Serve You, And One Suit, Through All Your Travels; For You'll Find It Certain.

Of All The Forms Of Wisdom, Hindsight Is By General Consent The Least Merciful, The Most Unforgiving.