For Never, Never, Wicked Man Was Wise.

Aries In His Many Fits Knows No Favorites.

If Not Yet Lost To All The Sense Of Shame.

Bursts As A Wave That From The Clouds Impends, And Swell'd With Tempests On The Ship Descends; White Are The Decks With Foam; The Winds Aloud Howl O'er The Masts, And Sing Through Every Shroud: Pale, Trembling, Tir'd, The Sailors Freeze With Fears; And Instant Death On Every Wave Appears.

The Outcome Of The War Is In Our Hands; The Outcome Of Words Is In The Council.

Steel Itself Oft Lures A Man To Fight.