Nothing Useless Is, Or Low; Each Thing

To Charm, To Strengthen, And To Teach: These Are The Three Great Chords Of Might.

To-morrow! The Mysterious, Unknown Guest, Who Cries To Me: "remember Barmecide, And Tremble To Be Happy With The Rest." And I Make Answer: "i Am Satisfied; I Dare Not Ask; I Know Not What Is Best; God Hath Already Said What Shall Betide.

So Nature Deals With Us, And Takes Away Our Playthings One By One, And By The Hand Leads Us To Rest.

If I Am Not Worth The Wooing, I Surely Am Not Worth The Winning!

Some Must Follow And Some Command, Through All Are Made Oclay.