He That Climbs A Ladder Must Begin

Revenge, The Sweetest Morsel To The Mouth That Ever Was Cooked In Hell.

On His Bold Visage Middle Age Had Slightly Press'd Its Signet Sage, Yet Had Not Quench'd The Open Truth And Fiery Vehemence Of Youth: Forward And Frolic Glee Was There, The Will To Do, The Soul To Dare.

He Hath A Share Of Man's Intelligence, But No Share Of Man's Falsehood.

Oh, Brignall Banks Are Wild And Fair, And Greta Woods Are Green, And You May Gather Garlands There Would Grace A Summer's Queen.

Land Of My Sires! What Mortal Hand Can E'er Untie The Filial Band That Knits Me To Thy Rugged Strand!