To Be Weak Is Miserable, Doing Or

They Also Serve Who Only Stand And Wait.

Wild Above Rule Or Art, Enormous Bliss.

For The Air Of Youth, Hopeful And Cheerful, In Thy Blood Will Reign A Melancholy Damp Of Cold And Dry To Weigh Thy Spirits Down, And Last Consume The Balm Of Life.

Come Knit Hands, And Beat The Ground In A Light Fantastic Round

No Worthy Enterprise Can Be Done By Us Without Continual Plodding And Wearisomeness To Our Faint And Sensitive Abilities.