Secret Guilt By Silence Is

Kings Fight For Empires, Madmen For Applause.

He Is A Perpetual Fountain Of Good Sense.

We Must Beat The Iron While It Is Hot, But We May Polish It At Leisure.

But Love's A Malady Without A Cure.

Doeg, Though Without Knowing How Or Why, Made Still A Blundering Kind Of Melody; Spurr'd Boldly On, And Dash'd Through Thick And Thin, Through Sense And Nonsense, Never Out Nor In; Free From All Meaning Whether Good Or Bad, And In One Word, Heroically Mad.