All That Tread, The Globe Are But

Adversity Is The Nurse Of Greatness Which Roughly Rocks Her Patients Back To Health.

A Sculptor Wields The Chisel, And The Stricken Marble Grows To Beauty.

The Sad And Solemn Night Hath Yet Her Multitude Of Cheerful Fires; The Glorious Host Of Light Walk The Dark Hemisphere Till She Retires; All Through Her Silent Watches, Gliding Slow, Her Constellations Come, And Climb The Heavens, And Go.

There Is A Day Of Sunny Rest For Every Dark And Troubled Night; And Grief May Hide An Evening Guest, But Joy Shall Come With Early Light.

But 'neath Yon Crimson Tree Lover To Listening Maid Might Breathe His Flame, Nor Mark, Within Its Roseate Canopy, Her Blush Of Maiden Shame.