Man, Proud Man, Drest In

Stones Have Been Known To Move And Trees To Speak.

How Strange Or Odd Some'er I Bear Myself, As I Perchance Hereafter Shall Think Meet To Put An Antic Disposition On.

Things Won Are Done, Joy's Soul Lies In The Doing.

Now, God Be Praised, That To Believing Souls Gives Light In Darkness, Comfort In Despair.

Minutes, Hours, Days, Months, And Years, Pass'd Over To The End They Were Created, Would Bring White Hairs Unto A Quiet Grave. Ah, What A Life Were This!