And Plenty Makes Us Poor.

I'm A Little Wounded, But I Am Not Slain; I Will Lay Me Down To Bleed A While. Then I'll Rise And Fight Again.

Beauty Is Nothing Else But A Just Accord And Mutual Harmony Of The Members, Animated By A Healthful Constitution.

For Those Whom God To Ruin Has Design'd, He Fits For Fate, And First Destroys Their Mind.

With Odorous Oil Thy Head And Hair Are Sleek; And Then Thou Kemb'st The Tuzzes On Thy Cheek: Of These, My Barbers Take A Costly Care.

Not Heav'n Itself Upon The Past Has Pow'r; But What Has Been, Has Been, And I Have Had My Hour.