Have Patience, And Endure

Who Has A Book Of All That Monarchs Do, He's More Secure To Keep It Shut Than Shown; For Vice Repeated Is Like The Wand'ring Wind, Blows Dust In Others' Eye, To Spread Itself; And Yet The End Of All Is Bought Thus Dear, The Breath Is Gone, And The Sore Eyes See Clear To Stop The Air Would Hurt Them.

Love Will Not Be Spurred To What It Loathes

The Gloomy Shade Of Death.

People’s Good Deeds We Write In Water. The Evil Deeds Are Etched In Brass.

He Is Not Great Who Is Not Greatly Good.