What So Wild As Words Are?

Make No More Giants, God!but Elevate The Race At Once!

Truth Never Hurts The Teller.

We Shall March Prospering,-not Thro' His Presence; Songs May Inspirit Us,-not From His Lyre; Deeds Will Be Done,-while He Boasts His Quiescence, Still Bidding Crouch Whom The Rest Bade Aspire.

God Be Thanked, The Meanest Of His Creatures Boasts Two Soul-sides, One To Face The World With, One To Show A Woman When He Loves Her.

Lost, Lost! One Moment Knelled The Woe Of Years.