There Is Not One Wise Man In

Thou Art A Soul In Bliss; But I Am Bound Upon A Wheel Of Fire; That Mine Own Tears Do Scald Like Molten Lead.

Give Every Man Thy Ear, But Few Thy Voice.

The End Crowns All, And That Old Common Arbitrator, Time, Will One Day End It.

I Have Been Studying How I May Compare This Prison Where I Live Unto The World; And, For Because The World Is Populous, And Here Is Not A Creature But Myself, I Cannot Do It. Yet I'll Hammer It Out.

Even Through The Hollow Eyes Of Death I Spy Life Peering.