Like The Dew On The Mountain, Like

The Chain Of Friendship, However Bright, Does Not Stand The Attrition Of Constant Close Contact.

Whose Lenient Sorrows Find Relief, Whose Joys Are Chastened By Their Grief.

Necessity--thou Best Of Peacemakers, As Well As Surest Prompter Of Invention.

From My Experience, Not One In Twenty Marries The First Love; We Build Statues Of Snow And Weep To See Them Melt.

Breathes There The Man, With Soul So Dead, Who Never To Himself Hath Said, This Is My Own, My Native Land! Whose Heart Hath Ne'er Within Him Burn'd, As Home His Footsteps He Hath Turn'd From Wandering On A Foreign Strand! If Such There Breathe, Go Mark Him Well; For Him No Minstrel Raptures Swell; High Though His Titles, Proud His Name, Boundless His Wealth As Wish Can Claim; Despite Those Titles, Power, And Pelf, The Wretch, Concentred All In Self, Living, Shall Forfeit Fair Renown, And, Doubly Dying, Shall Go Down To The Vile Dust, From Whence He Sprung, Unwept, Unhonor'd, And Unsung.