The Ocean Moans Over Dead Men's Bones.

The Possession Of Unlimited Power Will Make A Despot Of Almost Any Man. There Is A Possible Nero In The Gentlest Human Creature That Walks.

Though I Be Shut In Darkness, And Become Insentient Dust Blown Idly Here And There, I Count Oblivion A Scant Price To Pay For Having Once Had Held Against My Lip Life's Brimming Cup Of Hydromel And Rue--for Having Once Known Woman's Holy Love And A Child's Kiss, And For A Little Space Been Boon Companion To The Day And Night, Fed On The Odors Of The Summer Dawn, And Folded In The Beauty Of The Stars. Dear Lord, Though I Be Changed To Senseless Clay, And Serve The Potter As He Turns His Wheel, I Thank Thee For The Gracious Gift Of Tears!

To Keep The Heart Unwrinkled, To Be Hopeful, Kindly, Cheerful, Reverent That Is To Triumph Over Old Age.

The Ocean Moans Over Dead Men's Bones.

The Fate Of The Worm Refutes The Pretended Ethical Teaching Of The Proverb, Which Assumes To Illustrate The Advantage Of Early Rising And Does So By Showing How Extremely Dangerous It Is.