Anger, Which, Far Sweeter Than Trickling Drops

I War Not With The Dead.

Evil Deeds Do Not Prosper; The Slow Man Catches Up With The Swift.

A Councilor Ought Not To Sleep The Whole Night Through, A Man To Whom The Populace Is Entrusted, And Who Has Many Responsibilities.

But He Whose Inborn Worth His Acts Commend, Of Gentle Soul, To Human Race A Friend.

His Native Home Deep Imag'd In His Soul.