Silence, Maiden; Thy Tongue Outruns Thy Discretion.

Wounds Sustained For The Sake Of Conscience Carry Their Own Balsam With The Blow.

Woe To The Youth Whom Fancy Gains, Winning From Reason's Hand The Reins, Pity And Woe! For Such A Mind Is Soft Contemplative, And Kind.

In Man's Most Dark Extremity Oft Succour Dawns From Heaven.

Fight On, Brave Knights! Man Dies, But Glory Lives! Fight On; Death Is Better Than Defeat! Fight On Brave Knights! For Bright Eyes Behold Your Deeds!

Heap On More Wood! - The Wind Is Chill; But Let It Whistle As It Will, We'll Keep Our Christmas Merry Still.