Flowers Spring Up Unsown And

Virtue Cannot Dwell With Slaves, Nor Reign O'er Those Who Cower To Take A Tyrant's Yoke.

So They, Who Climb To Wealth, Forget The Friends In Darker Fortunes Tried. I Copied Them--but I Regret That I Should Ape The Ways Of Pride.

The Gentle Race Of Flowers Are Lying In Their Lowly Beds.

The Victory Of Endurance Born.

The Hushed Winds Their Sabbath Keep.