Good Workemen Are Seldome Rich.

The Blind Eate Many A Flie. [the Blind Eat Many A Fly.]

We Must Recoile A Little, To The End We May Leap The Better.

Who Says That Fictions Only And False Hair Become A Verse? Is There In Truth No Beauty? Is All Good Structure In A Winding Stair?

Woe To The House Where There Is No Chiding.

Drink Not The Third Glass, Which Thou Canst Not Tame, When Once It Is Within Thee.