Alas! To Seize The Moment When The

The Gay Will Laugh When Thou Art Gone, The Solemn Brood Of Care Plod On, And Each One As Before Will Chase His Favourite Phantom; Yet All These Shall Leave Their Mirth And Their Employments, And Shall Come, And Make Their Bed With Thee.

So They, Who Climb To Wealth, Forget The Friends In Darker Fortunes Tried. I Copied Them--but I Regret That I Should Ape The Ways Of Pride.

Or, Bide Thou Where The Poppy Blows With Windflowers Fail And Fair.

Poetry Is The Eloquence Of Verse.

Truth Gets Well If She Is Run Over By A Locomotive, While Error Dies Of Lockjaw If She Scratches Her Finger.