Still To The Sufferer Comes, As Due

I Have Learned To Hate All Traitors, And There Is No Disease That I Spit On More Than Treachery.

Even The Old Should Learn.

The Anvil Of Justice Is Planted Firm, And Fate Who Makes The Sword Does The Forging In Advance.

Justice Shines In Very Smoky Homes, And Honors The Righteous; But The Gold-spangled Mansions Where The Hands Are Unclean She Leaves With Eyes Averted.

Time Waxing Old Can Many A Lesson Teach.