Thy Wit Is A Very Bitter Sweeting;

No Profit Grows Where No Pleasure Is Taken.

O Coward Conscience, How Dost Thou Afflict Me!

Let Us Not Burden Our Remembrances With A Heaviness That's Gone.

There Are Many Events In The Womb Of Time Which Will Be Delivered.

Happy Are They That Hear Their Detractions, And Can Put Them To Mending.