Did he so often lodge in open field, In winter's cold and summer's parching heat, To conquer France, his true inheritance?

Nimble thought can jump both sea and land.

What's gone, and what's past help, Should be past grief.

There is a world elsewhere.

Miracles are ceased; and therefore we must needs admit the means, how things are perfected.

she shall scant show well that now shows best.

Delay leads impotent and snail-paced beggary.