Thus Grief Still Treads Upon

Blessings Ever Wait On Virtuous Deeds, And Though A Late, A Sure Reward Succeeds.

I Am A Fool, I Know It; And Yet, Heaven Help Me, I'm Poor Enough To Be A Wit.

She Likes Herself, Yet Others Hates, For That Which In Herself She Prizes; And While She Laughs At Them, Forgets She Is The Thing That She Despises.

Though Marriage Makes Man And Wife One Flesh, It Leaves 'em Still Two Fools.

I Hope You Do Not Think Me Prone To Any Iteration Of Nuptials.