Seas Wept From Our Deep Sorrows.

A Poet Soaring In The High Reason Of His Fancies, With His Garland And Singing Robes About Him.

The Great Creator From His Work Returned Magnificent, His Six Days' Work, A World.

Who Aspires Must Down As Low As High He Soar'd.

It Is Lawful And Hath Been Held So Through All Ages For Any One Who Have The Power To Call To Account A Tyrant Or Wicked King, And After Due Conviction To Depose And Put Him To Death.

The Timely Dew Of Sleep Now Falling With Soft Slumb'rous Weight Inclines Our Eyelids.