Weak Is That Throne, And

The Virtuous To Those Mansions Go Where Pleasures Unembitter'd Flow, Where, Leading Up A Jocund Band, Vigor And Youth Dance Hand In Hand, Whilst Zephyr, With Harmonious Gales, Pipes Softest Music Through The Vales, And Spring And Flora, Gaily Crown'd, With Velvet Carpet Spread The Ground; With Livelier Blush Where Roses Bloom, And Every Shrub Expires Perfume.

Wit, Who Never Once Forgave A Brother, Shall Forgive A Dunce.

Knaves Starve Not In The Land Of Fools.

Constant Attention Wears The Active Mind, Blots Out Our Pow'rs, And Leaves A Blank Behind.

Patience Is Sorrow's Salve.