To hold, as 't were, the mirror up to nature.
Courage and comfort, all shall yet go well
Travelers must be content.
His neigh is like the bidding of a monarch, and his countenance enforces homage. He is indeed a horse.
Death makes no conquest of this conqueror: For now he lives in fame, though not in life.
Hot lavender, mints, savory, marjoram; The marigold, that goes to bed wi' the sun, and with him rise weeping.