Once To Every Person And Nation Come

Time Makes Ancient Good Uncouth.

How Little Inventiveness There Is In Man, Grave Copier Of Copies.

Idleness Induces Caprice.

The Time Is Ripe, And Rotten-ripe, For Change... [truth's] Mirror Is Turned Forward, To Reflect The Promise Of The Future, Not The Past.

I Love Her With A Love As Still As A Broad River's Peaceful Might, Which By High Tower And Lowly Mill, Goes Wandering At Its Own Will, And Yet Does Ever Flow Aright.