I Wish My Sun May Never Set,

Authority Without Wisdom Is Like A Heavy Ax Without An Edge -- Fitter To Bruise Than Polish.

Sweet Words Are Like Honey, A Little May Refresh, But Too Much Gluts The Stomach.

Some Laborers Have Hard Hands, And Old Sinners Have Brawny Consciences.

If What I Do Prove Well, It Won't Advance. They'll Say It's Stolen, Or Else It Was By Chance.

When I Behold The Heavens As In Their Prime, And Then The Earth (though Old) Still Clad In Green, The Stones And Trees, Insensible Of Time, Nor Age Nor Wrinkle On Their Front Are Seen