The Loud Laugh That Spoke The Vacant

Sweet Auburn, Loveliest Village Of The Plain.

We Had No Revolutions To Fear, Nor Fatigues To Undergo; All Our Adventures Were By The Fireside, And All Our Migrations From The Blue Bed To The Brown.

To Aim At Excellence, Our Reputation, And Friends, And All Must Be Ventured; To Aim At The Average We Run No Risk And Provide Little Service.

[t]here Are Depths Of Thousands Of Miles Which Are Hidden From Our Inquiry. The Only Tidings We Have From Those Unfathomable Regions Are By Means Of Volcanoes, Those Burning Mountains That Seem To Discharge Their Materials From The Lowest Abysses Of The Earth.

Aspiring Beggary Is Wretchedness Itself.