November's Sky Is Chill And Drear, November's

Sleep In Peace, And Wake In Joy.

Look At A Gown Of Gold, And You Will At Least Get A Sleeve Of It.

The Most Learned, Acute, And Diligent Student Cannot, In The Longest Life, Obtain An Entire Knowledge Of This One Volume.

Breathes There The Man, With Soul So Dead, Who Never To Himself Hath Said, This Is My Own, My Native Land! Whose Heart Hath Ne'er Within Him Burn'd, As Home His Footsteps He Hath Turn'd From Wandering On A Foreign Strand! If Such There Breathe, Go Mark Him Well; For Him No Minstrel Raptures Swell; High Though His Titles, Proud His Name, Boundless His Wealth As Wish Can Claim; Despite Those Titles, Power, And Pelf, The Wretch, Concentred All In Self, Living, Shall Forfeit Fair Renown, And, Doubly Dying, Shall Go Down To The Vile Dust, From Whence He Sprung, Unwept, Unhonor'd, And Unsung.

He That Climbs A Ladder Must Begin At The First Round.