Ye Waves That O'er Th' Interminable Ocean

Alas For The Affairs Of Men! When They Are Fortunate You Might Compare Them To A Shadow; And If They Are Unfortunate, A Wet Sponge With One Dash Wipes The Picture Away.

For There Is No Defense For A Man Who, In The Excess Of His Wealth, Has Kicked The Great Altar Of Justice Out Of Sight.

The Evils Of Mortals Are Manifold; Nowhere Is Trouble Of The Same Wing Seen.

There Is A Limit To The Best Of Health, Disease Is Always A Near Neighbor.

Since Long I've Held Silence A Remedy For Harm.