Alas, I Have Grieved So I Am

I Love You For The Part Of Me That You Bring Out.

A Great Man Leaves Clean Work Behind Him, And Requires No Sweeper Up Of The Chips.

"there Is No God," The Foolish Saith, But None, "there Is No Sorrow." And Nature Oft The Cry Of Faith In Bitter Need Will Borrow: Eyes Which The Preacher Could Not School, By Wayside Graves Are Raised; And Lips Say, "god Be Pitiful," Who Ne'er Said, "god Be Praised."

The World's Male Chivalry Has Perished Out, But Women Are Knights-errant To The Last; And, If Cervantes Had Been Greater Still, He Had Made His Don A Donna.

Books Are Men Of Higher Stature, And The Only Men That Speak Aloud For Future Times To Hear.