Pity Melts The Mind To Love.

I'm A Little Wounded, But I Am Not Slain; I Will Lay Me Down To Bleed A While. Then I'll Rise And Fight Again.

Bacchus Ever Fair And Young, Drinking Joys Did First Ordain. Bachus's Blessings Are A Treasure, Drinking Is The Soldier's Pleasure, Rich The Treasure, Sweet The Pleasure- Sweet Is Pleasure After Pain.

God Never Made His Work For Man To Mend.

Thou Tyrant, Tyrant Jealousy, Thou Tyrant Of The Mind!

Long Pains, With Use Of Bearing, Are Half Eased.