If Ancient Tales Say True, Nor Wrong

There Is Music In All Things, If Men Had Ears.

I Depart, Whither I Know Not; But The Hour's Gone By When Albion's Lessening Shores Could Grieve Or Glad Mine Eye.

When People Say, "i've Told You Fifty Times," They Mean To Scold, And Very Often Do; When Poets Say, "i've Written Fifty Rhymes," They Make You Dread That They'll Recite Them Too; In Gangs Of Fifty, Thieves Commit Their Crimes; At Fifty Love For Love Is Rare, 't Is True, But Then, No Doubt, It Equally As True Is, A Good Deal May Be Bought For Fifty Louis.

As Falls The Dew On Quenchless Sands, Blood Only Serves To Wash Ambition's Hands.

A Rose With All Its Sweetest Leaves Yet Folded.