Rocks Whereon Greatest Men Have Oftest Wreck'd.

God Is Thy Law, Thou Mine.

I Will Point Ye Out The Right Path Of A Virtuous And Noble Education; Laborious Indeed At First Ascent, But Else So Smooth, So Green, So Full Of Goodly Prospect, And Melodious Sounds On Every Side, That The Harp Of Orpheus Was Not More Charming.

I Fled, And Cry'd Out, Death; Hell Trembled At The Hideous Name, And Sigh'd From All Her Caves, And Back Resounded, Death.

Look Homeward, Angel, Now, And Melt With Ruth.

Freely They Stood Who Stood, And Fell Who Fell.