When A Man's Life Is Under Debate,

Beware Of The Fury Of The Patient Man.

He Who Would Search For Pearls Must Dive Below.

While I Am Compassed Round With Mirth, My Soul Lies Hid In Shades Of Grief, Whence, Like The Bird Of Night, With Half-shut Eyes, She Peeps, And Sickens At The Sight Of Day.

So Softly Death Succeeded Life In Her, She Did But Dream Of Heaven, And She Was There.

He Wants Worth Who Dares Not Praise A Foe.