Each Must Drain His Share Of Pleasure,

Great Talent Has Always A Little Madness Mixed Up With It.

Well, Then--our Course Is Chosen--spread The Sail-- Heave Oft The Lead, And Mark The Soundings Well-- Look To The Helm, Good Master--many A Shoal Marks This Stern Coast, And Rocks, Where Sits The Siren Who, Like Ambition, Lures Men To Their Ruin.

And Better Had They Ne'er Been Born, Who Read To Doubt, Or Read To Scorn.

I Will But Confess The Sins Of My Green Cloak To My Grey Friar's Frock, And All Shall Be Well Again.

The Paths Of Virtue, Though Seldom Those Of Worldly Greatness, Are Always Those Of Pleasantness And Peace.