Your Lordship, Though Not Clean Past Your

I Praise God For You, Sir: Your Reasons At Dinner Have Been Sharp And Sententious; Pleasant Without Scurrility, Witty Without Affectation, Audacious Without Impudency, Learned Without Opinion, And Strange With-out Heresy.

Silence Is The Perfect Herald Of Joy.

I Am Not In The Roll Of Common Men.

Once More Unto The Breach, Dear Friends, Once More; Or Close The Wall With Our English Dead.

Frame Your Mind To Mirth And Merriment Which Bars A Thousand Harms And Lengthens Life.