The Wailing Owl Screams Solitary To The

I Courted Fame But As A Spur To Brave And Honest Deeds; Who Despises Fame Will Soon Renounce The Virtues That Deserve It.

The Wailing Owl Screams Solitary To The Mournful Moon.

O Grant Me, Heaven, A Middle State, Neither Too Humble Nor Too Great; More Than Enough, For Nature's Ends, With Something Left To Treat My Friends.

True Valor, On Virtue Founded Strong, Meets All Events Alike.

Uncertainty! Fell Demon Of Our Fears! The Human Soul That Can Support Despair, Supports Not Thee.