These Blessed Candles Of The Night.

Crowns Have Their Compass-length Of Days Their Date- Triumphs Their Tomb-felicity, Her Fate- Of Nought But Earth Can Earth Make Us Partaker, But Knowledge Makes A King Most Like His Maker.

He Hath Borne Himself Beyond The Promise Of His Age, Doing, In The Figure Of A Lamb, The Feats Of A Lion.

Some There Be That Shadows Kiss; Such Have But A Shadow's Bliss.

The Lowest Ebb Is The Turn Of The Tide. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow We Are Such Stuff As Dreams Are Made Of.

Like A Man Made After Supper Of A Cheese-paring: When A' Was Naked, He Was, For All The World, Like A Forked Radish, With A Head Fantastically Carved Upon It With A Knife.