For All Have Not The Gift Of

Courage From Hearts And Not From Numbers Grows.

Raw In The Fields The Rude Militia Swarms, Mouth Without Hands; Maintained At Vast Expense, In Peace A Charge, In War A Weak Defence.

Or Hast Thou Known The World So Long In Vain?

Satire Among The Romans, But Not Among The Greeks, Was A Bitter Invective Poem.

My Whole Life Has Been A Golden Dream Of Love And Friendship.