Stay, Stay At Home, My Heart And

The Atmosphere Breathes Rest And Comfort, And The Many Chambers Seem Full Of Welcomes.

Fortune Comes Well To All That Comes Not Late.

Even Cities Have Their Graves!

Were A Star Quenched On High,for Ages Would Its Light,still Travelling Downward From The Sky,shine On Our Mortal Sight. So When A Great Man Dies,for Years Beyond Our Ken,the Light He Leaves Behind Him Liesupon The Paths Of Men.

A Life That Is Worth Writing At All Is Worth Writing Minutely.