Men's Faults Do Seldom To Themselves Appear.

I Heard A Bustling Rumor Like A Fray, And The Wind Blows It From The Capitol.

Go To You Bosom: Knock There, And Ask Your Heart What It Doth Know.

Now Join Your Hands, And With Your Hands Your Hearts.

What Can Be Happier Than For A Man, Conscious Of Virtuous Acts, And Content With Liberty, To Despise All Human Affairs?

I Am Not Merry, But I Do Beguile The Thing I Am By Seeming Otherwise.