A Wise Man Will Always Be A

Ah What Avails The Sceptred Race, Ah What The Form Divine! What Every Virtue, Every Grace! Rose Aylmer, All Were Thine. Rose Aylmer, Whom These Wakeful Eyes May Weep, But Never See, A Night Of Memories And Of Sighs I Consecrate To Thee.

What Is Companionship Where Nothing That Improves The Intellect Is Communicated, And Where The Larger Heart Contracts Itself To The Model And Dimension Of The Smaller?

Men Universally Are Ungrateful Towards Him Who Instructs Them, Unless, In The Hours Or In The Intervals Of Instruction, He Presents A Sweet-cake To Their Self-love.

The Habit Of Pleasing By Flattery Makes A Language Soft; The Fear Of Offending By Truth Makes It Circuitous And Conventional.

It Appears To Be Among The Laws Of Nature, That The Mighty Of Intellect Should Be Pursued And Carped By The Little, As The Solitary Flight Of One Great Bird Is Followed By The Twittering Petulance Of Many Smaller.