Here Is Neither Want Of Appetite Nor

Earth Walks On Earth, Glittering In Gold; Earth Goes To Earth, Sooner Than It Wold; Earth Builds On Earth, Palaces And Towers; Earth Says To Earth, Soon, All Shall Be Ours.

Thou Hast Had Thty Day, Old Dame, But Thy Sun Has Long Been Set. Thou Art Now The Very Emblem Of An Old Warhorse Turned Out On The Barren Heath; Thou Hast Had Thy Paces In Thy Time, But Now A Broken Amble Is The Best Of Them.

There Is A Vulgar Incredulity, Which In Historical Matters, As Well As In Those Of Religion, Finds It Easier To Doubt Than To Examine.

Covetousness Bursts The Sack And Spills The Grain.

Welcome As The Flowers In May.