We Were Not Born To Sue, But

I Would That I Were Low Laid In My Grave. I Am Not Worth This Coil That's Made For Me.

The Gray-eyed Morn Smiles On The Frowning Night, Checkering The Eastern Clouds With Streaks Of Light.

We Must Take The Current When It Serves, Or Lose Our Ventures.

Blind Is His Love, And Best Befits The Dark.

Children Wish Fathers Looked But With Their Eyes; Fathers That Children With Their Judgment Looked; And Either May Be Wrong.