The Bird That Flutters Least Is Longest

Ye Therefore Who Love Mercy, Teach Your Sons To Love It, Too.

We Turn To Dust, And All Our Mightiest Works Die Too.

I Pity Bashful Men, Who Feel The Pain Of Fancied Scorn And Undeserved Disdain, And Bear The Marks Upon A Blushing Face, Of Needless Shame, And Self-impos'd Disgrace.

Those Flimsy Webs That Break As Soon As Wrought, Attain Not To The Dignity Of Thought.

True Modesty Is A Discerning Grace And Only Blushes In The Proper Place; But Counterfeit Is Blind, And Skulks Through Fear, Where 'tis A Shame To Be Asham'd T' Appear: Humility The Parent Of The First, The Last By Vanity Produc'd And Nurs'd.