Modest Humility Is Beauty's Crown.

It Does Not Prove A Thing To Be Right Because The Majority Say It Is So.

Weep, For The Light Is Dead.

Joy, In Nature's Wide Dominion, Mightiest Cause Of All Is Found; And 'tis Joy That Moves The Pinion When The Wheel Of Time Goes Round.

Wouldst Thou Wisely, And With Pleasure, Pass The Days Of Life's Short Measure, From The Slow One Counsel Take, But A Tool Of Him Ne'er Make; Ne'er As Friend The Swift One Know, Nor The Constant One As Foe.

Death Is A Mighty Mediator. There All The Flames Of Rage Are Extinguished, Hatred Is Appeased, And Angelic Pity, Like A Weeping Sister, Bends With Gentle And Close Embrace Over The Funeral Urn.