That a lie which is all a lie may be met and fought with outright, But a lie which is part a truth is a harder matter to fight.

The vow that binds too strictly snaps itself.

If I make dark my countenance, I shut my life from happier chance.

For this is England's greatest son, He that gain'd a hundred fights, And never lost an English gun.

Things seen are mightier than things heard.

Sweet and low, sweet and low, Wind of the western sea, Low, low, breathe and blow, Wind of the western sea! Over the rolling waters go, Come from the dying moon, and blow, Blow him again to me; While my little one, while my pretty one, sleeps. Sleep and rest, sleep and rest, Father will come to thee soon; Rest, rest, on mother's breast, Father will come to thee soon; Father will come to his babe in the nest, Silver sails all out of the west Under the silver moon: Sleep, my little one, sleep, my pretty one, sleep.

From yon blue heavens above us bent The gardener Adam and his wife Smile at the claims of long descent. Howe'er it be, it seems to me, 'Tis only noble to be good. Kind hearts are more than coronets, And simple faith than Norman blood.