From Now On Walking Is My Beer

By Hook Or By Crook This Peril Too Shall Be Something That We Remember

For Love Deceives The Best Of Woman Kind.

The Rest Were Vulgar Deaths Unknown To Fame.

Two Urns On Jove's High Throne Have Ever Stood, The Source Of Evil One, And One Of Good; From Thence The Cup Of Mortal Man He Fills, Blessings To These, To Those Distributes Ills; To Most He Mingles Both.

I Long For Home, Long For The Sight Of Home.