To Be Rhymed To Death As Is

With How Sad Steps, O Moon, Thou Climb'st The Skies! How Silently, And With How Wan A Face!

God Has Appointed Us Captains Of This Our Bodily Fort, Which, Without Treason To That Majesty, Are Never To Be Delivered Over Till They Are Demanded.

Great Captains Do Never Use Long Orations When It Comes To The Point Of Execution.

And Thou My Minde Aspire To Higher Things; Grow Rich In That Which Never Taketh Rust.

The Highest Point Outward Things Can Bring Unto, Is The Contentment Of The Mind; With Which No Estate Can Be Poor, Without Which All Estates Will Be Miserable.