Let The Long Contention Cease! / Geese

But Thou, My Son, Study To Make Prevail One Colour In Thy Life, The Hue Of Truth.

Everything In Our Political Life Tends To Hide From Us That There Is Anything Wiser Than Our Ordinary Selves.

Years Hence, Perhaps, May Dawn An Age, More Fortunate, Alas! Than We, Which Without Hardness Will Be Sage, And Gay Without Frivolity.

Resolve To Be Thyself: And Know That He Who Finds Himself, Loses His Misery.

Strew On Her Roses, Roses, And Never A Spray Of Yew! In Quiet She Reposes; Ah, Would That I Did Too!