No More Was Seen The Human Form

Though Triumphs Were To Generals Only Due, Crowns Were Reserved To Grace The Soldiers Too.

Monuments, Like Men, Submit To Fate.

The Sound Must Seem An Echo To The Sense.

That, Chang'd Thro' All And Yet In All The Same, Great In The Earth As In Th' Ætherial Frame, Warms In The Sun, Refreshes In The Breeze, Glows In The Stars, And Blossoms In The Trees... Breathes In Our Soul, Informs Our Mortal Part... Submit - In This, Or Any Other Sphere, Secure To Be As Blest As Thou Canst Bear. All Nature Is But Art, Unknown To Thee; All Chance, Direction Which Thou Canst Not See; All Discord, Harmony Not Understood... All Partial Evil, Universal Good.

Bear, Like The Turk, No Brother Near The Throne.