Those Who Have Not, And Live In

Toil, Says The Proverb, Is The Sire Of Fame.

None Can Hold Fortune Still And Make It Last.

Oh, Trebly Blest The Placid Lot Of Those Whose Hearth Foundations Are In Pure Love Laid, Where Husband's Breast With Tempered Ardor Glows, And Wife, Oft Mother, Is In Heart A Maid!

There Is The Sky, Which Is All Men's Together.

To Every Man, Even Though He Be A Slave, The Light Of Heaven Is Sweet.