There Is Safety In Numbers.

Sufficiency's Enough For Men Of Sense.

Of Mortals There Is No One Who Is Happy. If Wealth Flows In Upon One, One May Be Perhaps Luckier Than One's Neighbor, But Still Not Happy.

All Men Know Their Children Mean More Than Life. If Childless People Sneer- Well, They've Less Sorrow. But What Lonesome Luck!

Lady, The Sun's Light To Our Eyes Is Dear, And Fair The Tranquil Reaches Of The Sea, And Flowery Earth In May, And Bounding Waters; And So Right Many Fair Things I Might Praise; Yet Nothing Is So Radiant And So Fair As For Souls Childless, With Desire Sore-smitten, To See The Light Of Babes About The House.

What Greater Grief Than The Loss Of One's Native Land.