Downy Sleep, Death's Counterfeit.

Press Not A Falling Man Too Far; 'tis Virtue: His Faults Lie Open To The Laws; Let Them, Not You, Correct Him.

Out, Out, Brief Candle! Life's But A Walking Shadow.

What A Fool Honesty Is.

You, And Your Lady, Take From My Heart All Thankfulness!

So May He Rest, His Faults Lie Gently On Him!