For Art May Err, But Nature Cannot

How Easy 'tis, When Destiny Proves Kind, With Full-spread Sails To Run Before The Wind!

When Bounteous Autumn Rears Her Head, He Joys To Pull The Ripened Pear.

Home Is The Sacred Refuge Of Our Life.

Softly Sweet, In Lydian Measures, Soon He Sooth'd His Soul To Pleasures. War, He Sung, Is Toil And Trouble; Honour But An Empty Bubble; Never Ending, Still Beginning, Fighting Still, And Still Destroying. If All The World Be Worth The Winning, Think, Oh Think It Worth Enjoying: Lovely Thais Sits Beside Thee, Take The Good The Gods Provide Thee.

Let Grace And Goodness Be The Principal Loadstone Of Thy Affections. For Love Which Hath Ends, Will Have An End; Whereas That Which Is Founded On True Virtue, Will Always Continue.