The Proud Will Sooner Lose Than Ask

A Joke's A Very Serious Thing.

Genius Is Independent Of Situation.

Greatly His Foes He Dreads, But More His Friends; He Hurts Me Most Who Lavishly Commends.

In The First Seat, In Robe Of Various Dyes, A Noble Wildness Flashing From His Eyes, Sat Shakespeare: In One Hand A Wand He Bore, For Mighty Wonders Fam'd In Days Of Yore: The Other Held A Globe, Which To His Will Obedient Turn'd, And Own'd The Master's Skill: Things Of The Noblest Kind His Genius Drew, And Look'd Through Nature At A Single View: A Loose He Gave To His Unbounded Soul, And Taught New Lands To Rise, New Seas To Roll; Call'd Into Being Scenes Unknown Before, And Passing Nature's Bounds, Was Something More.

Even In A Hero's Heart Discretion Is The Better Part.