A Babe Is Fed With Milk And

Friend Of My Bosom, Thou More Than A Brother, Why Wert Thou Not Born In My Father's Dwelling?

To Pile Up Honey Upon Sugar, And Sugar Upon Honey, To An Interminable Tedious Sweetness.

A Sweet Child Is The Sweetest Thing In Nature.

I Toiled After It, Sir, As Some Men Toil After Virtue.

Presents, I Often Say, Endear Absents.