There Is Little Hope Of Equity Where

Honor, Thou Strong Idol Of Man's Mind.

With How Sad Steps, O Moon, Thou Climb'st The Skies! How Silently, And With How Wan A Face!

Indeed, The Roman Laws Allowed No Person To Be Carried To The Wars But He That Was In The Soldiers Roll.

The Truly Great And Good, In Affliction, Bear A Countenance More Princely Than They Are Wont; For It Is The Temper Of The Highest Hearts, Like The Palm-tree, To Strive Most Upwards When It Is Most Burdened.

What Is Birth To A Man If It Shall Be A Stain To His Dead Ancestors To Have Left Such An Offspring?