Land Of My Sires! What Mortal Hand

Adversity Is, To Me At Least, A Tonic And A Bracer.

Mankind — The Race Would Perish Did They Cease To Aid Each Other.

Greatness Of Any Kind Has No Greater Foe Than A Habit Of Drinking.

Oh, On That Day, That Wrathful Day, When Man To Judgment Wakes Front Clay, Be Thou, O Christ, The Sinner's Stay, Though Heaven And Earth Shall Pass Away.

In Listening Mood She Seemed To Stand, The Guardian Naiad Of The Strand.