There's Hope A Great Man's Memory May

Winter's Not Gone Yet, If The Wild Geese Fly That Way.

This Fellow Pecks Up Wit, As Pigeons Peas; And Utters It Again When God Doth Please: He Is Wit's Pedler; And Retails His Wares.

The Brain May Devise Laws For The Blood, But A Hot Temper Leaps O'er A Cold Decree.

As Merry As The Day Is Long.

Give Thanks For What You Are Today And Go On Fighting For What You Gone Be Tomorrow