Fun I love, but too much fun is of all things the most loathsome. Mirth is better than fun, and happiness is better than mirth.

The stars are threshed, and the souls are threshed from their husks.

Then the Parson might preach, & drink, & sing, And we'd be as happy as birds in the spring; And modest dame Lurch, who is always at Church, Would not have bandy children, nor fasting, nor birch.

Then cherish pity, lest you drive an angel from your door.

The eye sees more than the heart knows.

A robin redbreast in a cage Puts all heaven in a rage.

The pride of the peacock is the glory of God.