In prayer the lips ne'er act the winning part, Without the sweet concurrence of the heart.

Roses at first were white, Till thy co'd not agree, Whether my Sapho's breast, Or they more white sho'd be.

The body is the soul's poor house or home, whose ribs the laths are and whose flesh the loam.

T is the will that makes the action good or ill.

Bid me to love, and I will give a loving heart to thee.

Men are suspicious; prone to discontent: Subjects still loathe the present Government.

Tears are the noble language of eyes, and when true love of words is destitute. The eye by tears speak, while the tongue is mute.