Fear Is The Virtue Of Slaves; But

Our Ingress Into The World Was Naked And Bare; Our Progress Through The World Is Trouble And Care.

The Natural Alone Is Permanent.

They Who Live In History Only Seemed To Walk The Earth Again.

The Love Of Learning, The Sequestered Nooks, And All The Sweet Serenity Of Books.

'tis Always Morning Somewhere, And Abovethe Awakening Continents, From Shore To Shore,somewhere The Birds Are Singing Evermore.