The Sun Never Sets On The Immense

On His Bold Visage Middle Age Had Slightly Press'd Its Signet Sage, Yet Had Not Quench'd The Open Truth And Fiery Vehemence Of Youth: Forward And Frolic Glee Was There, The Will To Do, The Soul To Dare.

Sensibility Is Nature's Celestial Spring.

For Monarchs Seldom Sigh In Vain.

Methinks I Will Not Die Quite Happy Without Having Seen Something Of That Rome Of Which I Have Read So Much.

Soldier, Rest! Thy Warfare O'er.