By Turns The Nine Delight To Sing

Men In Their Generations Are Like The Leaves Of The Trees. The Wind Blows And One Year's Leaves Are Scattered On The Ground; But The Trees Burst Into Bud And Put On Fresh Ones When The Spring Comes Round.

Behold, On Wrong Swift Vengeance Waits; And Art Subdues The Strong.

Clanless, Lawless, Homeless Is He Who Is In Love With Civil War, That Brutal Ferocious Thing.

A Sympathetic Friend Can Be Quite As Dear As A Brother.

Go On With A Spirit That Fears Nothing.