There's A Proud Modesty In Merit; Averse

When He Spoke, What Tender Words He Used! So Softly, That Like Flakes Of Feathered Snow, They Melted As They Fell.

Happy The Man, And Happy He Alone, He Who Can Call Today His Own; He Who, Secure Within, Can Say, Tomorrow Do Thy Worst, For I Have Lived Today.

Revenge, Revenge, Timotheus Cries, See The Furies Arise!

Virgil And Horace [were] The Severest Writers Of The Severest Age.

When A Man's Life Is Under Debate, The Judge Can Ne'er Too Long Deliberate.