Let Us Have Wine And

Eternal Spirit Of The Chainless Mind! Brightest In Dungeons, Liberty! Thou Art, For There Thy Habitation Is The Heart-- The Heart Which Love Of Thee Alone Can Bind; And When Thy Sons To Fetters Are Consign'd-- To Fetters And Damp Vault's Dayless Gloom, Their Country Conquers With Their Martyrdom.

A Sort Of Hostile Transaction, Very Necessary To Keep The World Going, But By No Means A Sinecure To The Parties Concerned.

The Cold, The Changed, Perchance The Dead, Anew, The Mourn'd, The Loved, The Lost,-too Many, Yet How Few!

Yet Still There Whispers The Small Voice Within, Heard Through Gain's Silence, And O'er Glory's Din; Whatever Creed Be Taught Or Land Be Trod, Man's Conscience Is The Oracle Of God.

I See Before Me The Gladiator Lie.