Our Pleasures And Our Discontents, Are Rounds

Learn To Labour And To Wait.

Tell Me Not, In Mournful Numbers, Life Is But An Empty Dream!

I Heard The Bells On Christmas Day Their Old, Familiar Carols Play, And Wild And Sweet The Words Repeat Of Peace On Earth, Good-will To Men!

Mercy More Becomes A Magistrate Than The Vindictive Wrath Which Men Call Justice.

The History Of The Past Is A Mere Puppet-show. A Little Man Comes Out And Blows A Little Trumpet, And Goes In Again. You Look For Something New, And Lo! Another Little Man Comes Out, And Blows Another Little Trumpet, And Goes In Again. And It Is All Over.