Silence In Times Of Suffering Is The

Music Is Inarticulate Poesy.

As Poetry Is The Harmony Of Words, So Music Is That Of Notes.

If Passion Rules, How Weak Does Reason Prove!

Ever A Glutton, At Another's Cost, But In Whose Kitchen Dwells Perpetual Frost.

I Trade Both With The Living And The Dead, For The Enrichment Of Our Native Language.