For Art May Err, But Nature Cannot

An Horrible Stillness First Invades Our Ear, And In That Silence We The Tempest Fear.

Genius Must Be Born, It Can't Be Taught.

The Greater Part Performed Achieves The Less.

Thus, While The Mute Creation Downward Bend Their Sight, And To Their Earthly Mother Ten, Man Looks Aloft; And With Erected Eyes Beholds His Own Hereditary Skies.

Time Glides With Undiscover'd Haste; The Future But A Length Behind The Past.