Since You Would Save None Of Me,

Old Grandsires Talk Of Yesterday With Sorrow, And For Our Children We Reserve Tomorrow.

Love Built On Beauty, Soon As Beauty, Dies.

Affliction Is A Treasure, And Scarce Any Man Hath Enough Of It. No Man Hath Affliction Enough That Is Not Matured And Ripened By It And Made Fit For God.

I Am Two Fools, I Know, For Loving, And For Saying So.

How Imperfect Is All Our Knowledge!