Cloath Thee In War, Arme Thee In

A Pittifull Looke Askes Enough.

Surely If Each One Saw Another's Heart, There Would Be No Commerce, No Sale Or Bargain Pass: All Would Disperse And Live Apart.

Dry Feet, Warme Head, Bring Safe To Bed.

A Great Ship Asks Deep Water.

Sweet Rose, Whose Hue, Angry And Brave, Bids The Rash Gazer Wipe His Eye, Thy Root Is Even In The Grave, And Thou Must Die.