Look Not Mournfully Into The Past. It

A Town That Boasts Inhabitants Like Me Can Have No Lack Of Good Society.

Look, Then, Into Thine Heart, And Write!

Art Is The Child Of Nature In Whom We Trace The Features Of The Mothers Face.

In What A Forge And What A Heat Were Shaped The Anchors Of Thy Hope! Fear Not Each Sudden Sound And Shock; 'tis Of The Wave And Not The Rock.

Who Dares To Say That He Alone Has Found The Truth?