To The Elysian Shades Dismiss My Soul,

Of Fight Or Fly, This Choice Is Left Ye, To Resist Or Die.

But Honest Instinct Comes A Volunteer; Sure Never To O'er-shoot, But Just To Hit, While Still Too Wide Or Short In Human Wit.

The Race By Vigour, Not By Vaunts, Is Won.

What's Fame? A Fancy'd Life In Other's Breath. A Thing Beyond Us, Even Before Our Death.

The Lights And Shades, Whose Well-accorded Strife Gives All The Strength And Color Of Our Life.