Lay Ye Down The Golden Chain From

I'm A Spalding Gray In A Rick Dees World.

Young People Are Thoughtless As A Rule.

I Should Rather Labor As Another's Serf, In The Home Of A Man Without Fortune, One Whose Livelihood Was Meager, Than Rule Over All The Departed Dead.

It Is Wrong To Be Sorry Without Ceasing.

Two Diverse Gates There Are Of Bodiless Dreams, These Of Sawn Ivory, And Those Of Horn. Such Dreams As Issue Where The Ivory Gleams Fly Without Fate, And Turn Our Hopes To Scorn. But Dreams Which Issue Through The Burnished Horn, What Man Soe'er Beholds Them On His Bed, These Work With Virtue And Of Truth Are Born.