The World Must Be Peopled!

... The Spring, The Summer, The Chilling Autumn, Angry Winter, Change Their Wonted Liveries; And The Mazed World By Their Increase, Now Knows Not Which Is Which.

Gently To Hear, Kindly To Judge.

Make Use Of Time, Let Not Advantage Slip; Beauty Within Itself Should Not Be Wasted: Fair Flowers That Are Not Gather'd In Their Prime Rot And Consume Themselves In Little Time.

Beauty Is But A Vain And Doubtful Good; A Shining Gloss That Fadeth Suddenly; A Flower That Dies When It Begins To Bud; A Doubtful Good, A Gloss, A Glass, A Flower, Lost, Faded, Broken, Dead Within An Hour.

All That Glitters Is Not Gold.