Who Ne'er Knew Joy But

To The Elysian Shades Dismiss My Soul, Where No Carnation Fades.

A Family Is But Too Often A Commonwealth Of Malignants.

In Lazy Apathy Let Stoics Boast, Their Virtue Fix'd: 't Is Fix'd As In A Frost; Contracted All, Retiring To The Breast; But Strength Of Mind Is Exercise, Not Rest.

Art Still Followed Where Rome's Eagles Flew.

Live Like Yourself, Was Soon My Lady's Word, And Lo! Two Puddings Smok'd Upon The Board.