A Bevy Of Fair Women.

Where Glowing Embers Through The Room Teach Light To Counterfeit A Gloom.

So Satan, Whom Repulse Upon Repulse Met Ever, And To Shameful Silence Brought, Yet Gives Not O'er Though Desperate Of Success.

Let Us Go Forth And Resolutely Dare With Sweat Of Brow To Toil Our Little Day.

Tower'd Cities Please Us Then, And The Busy Hum Of Men.

He That Has Light Within His Own Clear Breast May Sit In The Centre, And Enjoy Bright Day: But He That Hides A Dark Soul And Foul Thoughts Benighted Walks Under The Mid-day Sun; Himself His Own Dungeon.