There Is A Mixture Of Evil In

With Spots Quadrangular Of Diamond Form, Ensanguined Hearts, Clubs Typical Of Strife, And Spades, The Emblems Of Untimely Graves.

Absence Of Occupation Is Not Rest.

'tis Liberty Alone That Gives The Flower Of Fleeting Life Its Lustre And Perfume; And We Are Weeds Without It.

Knowledge And Wisdom, Far From Being One, Have Oft-times No Connection. Knowledge Dwells In Heads Replete With Thoughts Of Other Men; Wisdom In Minds Attentive To Their Own.

Nature, Exerting An Unwearied Power, Forms, Opens, And Gives Scent To Every Flower; Spreads The Fresh Verdure Of The Field, And Leads The Dancing Naiads Through The Dewy Meads.