The Ruins Of Time Build Mansions In

Sleep, Sleep, Beauty Bright,dreaming O'er The Joys Of Night.sleep, Sleep: In Thy Sleeplittle Sorrows Sit And Weep.

Mock On, Mock On, Voltaire, Rousseau! Mock On, Mock On: 'tis All In Vain! You Throw The Sand Against The Wind, And The Wind Blows It Back Again. And Every Sand Becomes A Gem Reflected In The Beams Divine; Blown Back They Blind The Mocking Eye, But Still In Israel's Paths They Shine. The Atoms Of Democritus And Newton's Particles Of Light Are Sands Upon The Red Sea Shore, Where Israel's Tents Do Shine So Bright.

A Good Local Pub Has Much In Common With A Church, Except That A Pub Is Warmer, And There's More Conversation.

Where There Is Money There Is No Art.

Where Cheating Is, There's Mischief There.