A Mother's Pride, A Father's Joy.

Come One, Come All! This Rock Shall Fly From Its Firm Base, As Soon As I.

Here Eglantine Embalm'd The Air, Hawthorne And Hazel Mingled There; The Primrose Pale, And Violet Flower, Found In Each Cliff A Narrow Bower; Fox-glove And Nightshade, Side By Side, Emblems Of Punishment And Pride, Group'd Their Dark Hues With Every Stain The Weather-beaten Crags Retain.

There Is A Southern Proverb - Fine Words Butter No Parsnips.

Steady Of Heart And Stout Of Hand.

For Love Is Heaven And Heaven Is Love.