Boldness Is A Mask For Fear, However

Rich The Treasure, Sweet The Pleasure,- Sweet Is Pleasure After Pain.

No King Nor Nation One Moment Can Retard The Appointed Hour.

Rhyme Is The Rock On Which Thou Art To Wreck.

Thus, While The Mute Creation Downward Bend Their Sight, And To Their Earthly Mother Ten, Man Looks Aloft; And With Erected Eyes Beholds His Own Hereditary Skies.

Griefs Assured Are Felt Before They Come.