The Old Folk, Time's Doting Chronicles.

Where Is Your Ancient Courage? You Were Used To Say Extremities Was The Trier Of Spirits; That Common Chances Common Men Could Bear; That When The Sea Was Calm All Boats Alike Showed Mastership In Floating.

Reflection Is The Business Of Man; A Sense Of His State Is His First Duty: But Who Remembereth Himself In Joy? Is It Not In Mercy Then That Sorrow Is Allotted Unto Us?

Such Antics Do Not Amount To A Man.

That But This Blow Might Be The Be-all And The End-all Here, But Here, Upon This Bank And Shoal Of Time, We'ld Jump The Life To Come.

Then Will I Raise Aloft The Milk-white Rose. For Whose Sweet Smell The Air Shall Be Perfumed.