O Father Abram, What These

The Urging Of That Word, Judgment, Hath Bred A Kind Of Remorse In Me.

Our Doubts Are Traitors And Make Us Lose The Good We Oft Might Win By Fearing To Attempt.

He Thinks Too Much. Such Men Are Dangerous.

As A Walled Town Is More Worthier Than A Village, So Is The Forehead Of A Married Man More Honorable Than The Bare Brow Of A Bachelor.

Time Goes On Crutches Till Love Have All His Rites.