And Wealth Abides Not, It Is But

The Little Done Doth Vanish To The Mind Which Forward Sees How Much Remains To Do.

There Is Nothing Like The Sight Of An Old Enemy Down On His Luck.

Lucky That Man Whose Children Make His Happiness In Life And Not His Grief, The Anguished Disappointment Of His Hopes.

When Roused To Rage The Maddening Populace Storms, Their Fury, Like A Rolling Flame, Bursts Forth Unquenchable; But Give Its Violence Ways, It Spends Itself, And As Its Force Abates, Learns To Obey And Yields It To Your Will.

Happy The Man Whose Lot It Is To Know The Secrets Of The Earth. He Hastens Not To Work His Fellows Hurt By Unjust Deeds, But With Rapt Admiration Contemplates Immortal Nature's Ageless Harmony, And How And When The Order Came To Be.