Woe To That Land That's Governed By

In Nature's Infinite Book Of Secrecy A Little I Can Read.

How Lush And Lusty The Grass Looks! How Green!

What Valor Were It, When A Cur Doth Grin, For One To Thrust His Hand Between His Teeth, When He Might Spurn Him With His Foot Away?

Our Content Is Our Best Having.

Sweet Flowers Are Slow And Weeds Make Haste.