What Mighty Woes To Thy Imperial Race

Down From His Brow She Ran His Curls Like Thick Hyacinth Clusters Full Of Blooms

And Heaven, That Every Virtue Bears In Mind, E'en To The Ashes Of The Just Is Kind.

When I Was Seventeen I Drank Some Very Good Beer I Drank Some Very Good Beer I Purchased With A Fake Id My Name Was Brian Mcgee I Stayed Up Listening To Queen When I Was Seventeen

Few Sons Are Like Their Fathers - Many Are Worse, Few Better.

Without Question It May Be Said Of Vancouver That Her Position, Geographically, Is Imperial To A Degree, That Her Possibilities Are Enormous, And That With But A Feeble Stretch Of The Imagination Those Possibilities Might Wisely Be Deemed Certainties.