Our Fruitless Labours Mourn, And

Yet, Taught By Time, My Heart Has Learned To Glow For Other's Good, And Melt At Other's Woe.

It Is Entirely Seemly For A Young Man Killed In Battle To Lie Mangled By The Bronze Spear. In His Death All Things Appear Fair.

The Grecian Ladies Counted Their Age From Their Marriage, Not Their Birth.

Beauty- It Was A Glorious Gift Of Nature.

How Delicate Her Feet Who Shuns The Ground, Stepping A-tiptoe On The Heads Of Men.