That's A Valiant Flea That

You Blocks, You Stones, You Worse Than Senseless Things!

The Seasons Alter: Hoary-headed Frosts Fall In The Fresh Lap Of The Crimson Rose.

That, Sir, Which Serves And Seeks For Gain, And Follows But For Form, Will Pack, When It Begins To Rain, And Leave Thee In A Storm.

O, Where Is Loyalty? If It Be Banished From The Frosty Head, Where Shall It Find A Harbor In The Earth?

To Climb Steep Hills Requires A Slow Pace At First.