Order Is The Greatest Grace.

Rhyme Is The Rock On Which Thou Art To Wreck.

We Must Beat The Iron While It Is Hot, But We May Polish It At Leisure.

The Unhappy Man, Who Once Has Trail'd A Pen, Lives Not To Please Himself, But Other Men; Is Always Drudging, Wastes His Life And Blood, Yet Only Eats And Drinks What You Think Good.

Love Reckons Hours For Months, And Days For Years; And Every Little Absence Is An Age.

With Odorous Oil Thy Head And Hair Are Sleek; And Then Thou Kemb'st The Tuzzes On Thy Cheek: Of These, My Barbers Take A Costly Care.