At Last Awake From Life, That Insane

Talent Should Minister To Genius.

The Sea Heaves Up, Hangs Loaded O'er The Land, Breaks There, And Buries Its Tumultuous Strength.

Autumn Wins You Best By This Its Mute Appeal To Sympathy For Its Decay.

Progress Is The Law Of Life: Man Is Not Man As Yet.

Let's Contend No More, Love, Strive Nor Weep: All Be As Before Love, - Only Sleep.