Some Love To Roam O'er The Dark

The King Can Drink The Best Of Wine -so Can I;and Has Enough When He Would Dine -so Have I;and Can Not Order Rain Or Shine -nor Can I.then Where's The Difference - Let Me See -betwixt My Lord The King And Me?

Tell Me, Ye Wingèd Winds That Round My Pathway Roar, Know Ye Not Some Spot Where Mortals Weep No More?

Men, It Has Been Well Said, Think In Herds; It Will Be Seen That They Go Mad In Herds, While They Only Recover Their Senses Slowly, And One By One.

Every Age Has Its Peculiar Folly: Some Scheme, Project, Or Fantasy Into Which It Plunges, Spurred On By The Love Of Gain, The Necessity Of Excitement, Or The Force Of Imitation.

Much As The Sage May Affect To Despise The Opinion Of The World, There Are Few Who Would Not Rather Expose Their Lives A Hundred Times Than Be Condemned To Live On, In Society, But Not Of It - A By-word Of Reproach To All Who Know Their History, And A Mark For Scorn To Point His Finger At.