Little Losses Amaze, Great Tame.

Church Bells Beyond The Stars Heard, The Soul's Blood, The Land Of Spices; Something Understood.

Good Newes May Bee Told At Any Time, But Ill In The Morning.

Only A Sweet And Virtuous Soul, Like Season'd Timbered, Never Gives; But Though The Whole World Turn To Coal, Then Chiefly Lives.

In A Leopard The Spotts Are Not Observed.

The Tongue Walkes Where The Teeth Speede Not.