Never Was It Given To Mortal Man

On Her White Breast A Sparkling Cross She Wore, Which Jews Might Kiss And Infidels Adore.

How Loved, How Honored Once, Avails Thee Not, To Whom Related, Or By Whom Begot A Heap Of Dust Alone Remains Of Thee 'tis All Thou Art, And All The Proud Shall Be!

What Bosom Beast Not In His Country's Cause?

The Proper Study Of Mankind Is Man.

Lulled In The Countless Chambers Of The Brain, Our Thoughts Are Linked By Many A Hidden Chain; Awake But One, And In, What Myriads Rise!