I Follow My Heart, For I Can

Posterity Weaves No Garlands For Imitators.

Only Through Beauty's Morning-gate, Dost Thou Penetrate The Land Of Knowledge.

Many A Crown Shines Spotless Now That Yet Was Deeply Sullied In The Winning.

Most Gladly Would I Give The Blood-stained Laurel For The First Violet Which March Brings Us, The Fragrant Pledge Of The New-fledged Year.

Man, One May Say, Was Never In Such A Completely Animal Condition; But He Has, On The Other Hand, Never Escaped From It.