All Must Yield To The Weight Of

And Yet, And Yet, In These Our Ghostly Lives, Half Night, Half Day, Half Sleeping, Half Awake, How If Our Waking Life, Like That Of Sleep, Be All A Dream In That Eternal Life To Which We Wake Not Till We Sleep In Death

No Virtue Can Be Real That Has Not Been Tried. The Gold In The Crucible Alone Is Perfect; The Loadstone Tests The Steel, And The Diamond Is Tried By The Diamond, While Metals Gleam The Brighter In The Furnace.

But Whether It Be Dream Or Truth, To Do Well Is What Matters. If It Be Truth, For Truth's Sake. If Not, Then To Gain Friends For The Time When We Awaken.

Tis Not Where We Lie But Whence We Fell; The Loss Of Heaven's The Greatest Pain In Hell.

All Must Yield To The Weight Of Years; Conquest Is Not Difficult For Time.