Virtue Treads Paths That End Not In

Tiny Salmoneus Of The Air His Mimic Bolts The Firefly Threw.

It Is Good To Lengthen To The Last A Sunny Mood.

These Pearls Of Thought In Persian Gulfs Were Bred, Each Softly Lucent As A Rounded Moon; The Diver Omar Plucked Them From Their Bed, Fitzgerald Strung Them On An English Thread.

Nature Fits All Her Children With Something To Do, He Who Would Write And Can't Write, Can Surely Review.

Time Makes Ancient Good Uncouth.