Sorrow And Silence Are Strong, And Patient

The Young May Die, But The Old Must!

Out Of The Bosom Of The Air, Out Of The Cloud-folds Of Her Garments Shaken, Over The Woodlands Brown And Bare, Over The Harvest-fields Forsaken, Silent, And Soft, And Slow Descends The Snow.

Ambition Is So Powerful A Passion In The Human Breast, That However High We Reach We Are Never Satisfied.

Read From Some Humbler Poet, Whose Songs Gushed From His Heart, As Showers From The Clouds Of Summer, Or Tears From The Eyelids Start.

I Will Be A Man Among Men; And No Longer A Dreamer Among Shadows.