Kind Pity Chokes My Spleen.

As Virtuous Men Pass Mildly Away, And Whisper To Their Souls To Go, Whilst Some Of Their Sad Friends Do Say, The Breath Goes Now, And Some Say No.

A Man That Is Not Afraid Of A Lion Is Afraid Of A Cat .

Licence My Roving Hands, And Let Them Go Before, Behind, Between, Above, Below.

As Peace Is Of All Goodness, So War Is An Emblem, A Hieroglyphic, Of All Misery.

All Occasions Invite His Mercies, And All Times Are His Seasons.