Shame Is No Comrade For The Poor,

By Their Own Follies They Perished, The Fools.

The Bitter Dregs Of Fortune's Cup To Drain.

Thou Knowst The Oer-eager Vehemence Of Youth,how Quick In Temper, And In Judgement Weak.

Not Vain The Weakest, If Their Force Unite.

It Is Not Strength, But Art, Obtains The Prize, And To Be Swift Is Less Than To Be Wise.