In Struggling With Misfortunes Lies

No Deeper Wrinkles Yet? Hath Sorrow Struck So Many Blows Upon This Face Of Mine And Made No Deeper Wounds?

Tis A Happy Thing To Be The Father Unto Many Sons.

If Our Virtues Did Not Go Forth Of Us, It Were All Alike As If We Had Them Not.

I Do Profess To Be No Less Than I Seem; To Serve Him Truly That Will Put Me In Trust: To Love Him That Is Honest; To Converse With Him That Is Wise, And Says Little; To Fear Judgment; To Fight When I Cannot Choose; And To Eat No Fish.

How Many A Holy And Obsequious Tear Hath Dear Religious Love Stolen From Mine Eye, As Interest Of The Dead!