Death Keeps No Calendar.

In A Retreat The Lame Are Formost. [in A Retreat The Lame Are Foremost.]

The Rage Of A Wild Boar Is Able To Spoil More Then One Wood.

We Must Love, As Looking One Day To Hate.

Only A Sweet And Virtuous Soul, Like Season'd Timbered, Never Gives; But Though The Whole World Turn To Coal, Then Chiefly Lives.

Punishment Is Lame, But It Comes.