God Shall Be All In All.

The Work Under Our Labour Grows, Luxurious By Restraint.

Cyriack, Whose Grandsire On The Royal Bench Of British Themis, With No Mean Applause Pronounced And In His Volumes Taught Our Laws, Which Others At Their Bar So Often Wrench

So May'st Thou Live, Till Like Ripe Fruit Thou Drop Into Thy Mother's Lap, Or Be With Ease Gathered, Not Harshly Plucked, For Death Mature: This Is Old Age; But Then Thou Must Outlive Thy Youth, Thy Strength, Thy Beauty, Which Will Change To Withered Weak And Grey.

Our Two First Parents, Yet The Only Two Of Mankind, In The Happy Garden Placed, Reaping Immortal Fruits Of Joy And Love, Uninterrupted Joy, Unrivalled Love In Blissful Solitude.

Hate Is Of All Things The Mightiest Divider, Nay, Is Division Itself. To Couple Hatred, Therefore, Though Wedlock Try All Her Golden Links, And Borrow To Tier Aid All The Iron Manacles And Fetters Of Law, It Does But Seek To Twist A Rope Of Sand.