And Weep The More, Because I Weep

Beyond The Limits Of A Vulgar Fate, Beneath The Good How Far,-but Far Above The Great.

Some Village Hampden, That With Dauntless Breast The Little Tyrant Of His Fields Withstood, Some Mute Inglorious Milton Here May Rest, Some Cromwell Guiltless Of His Country's Blood.

The Time Will Come, When Thou Shalt Lift Thine Eyes To Watch A Long-drawn Battle In The Skies. While Aged Peasants, Too Amazed For Words, Stare At The Flying Fleets Of Wondrous Birds.

Daughter Of Jove, Relentless Power, Thou Tamer Of The Human Breast, Whose Iron Scourge And Tort'ring Hour The Bad Affright, Afflict The Best!

Not All That Tempts Your Wandering Eyes And Heedless Hearts, Is Lawful Prize; Nor All That Glisters Gold.