Ill News Is Wing'd With Fate, And

The Trumpet's Loud Clangor Excites Us To Arms.

Seas Are The Fields Of Combat For The Winds; But When They Sweep Along Some Flowery Coast, Their Wings Move Mildly, And Their Rage Is Lost.

Prodigious Actions May As Well Be Done, By Weaver's Issue, As The Prince's Son.

The Sooner You Treat Your Son As A Man, The Sooner He Will Be One.

Him Of The Western Dome, Whose Weighty Sense Flows In Fit Words And Heavenly Eloquence.