Time Is The King Of Men.

People’s Good Deeds We Write In Water. The Evil Deeds Are Etched In Brass.

Who Finds The Heifer Dead And Bleeding Fresh And Sees Fast-by A Butcher With An Axe, But Will Suspect 'twas He That Made The Slaughter?

Like The Lily That Once Was Mistress Of The Field And Flourished, I'll Hang My Head And Perish.

I Will Be Correspondent To Command, And Do My Spiriting Gently.

Past All Shame, So Past All Truth.