Sleep The Sleep That Knows

Respect Was Mingled With Surprise, And The Stern Joy Which Warriors Feel In Foemen Worthy Of Their Steel.

O Woman! In Our Hours Of Ease Uncertain, Coy, And Hard To Please, And Variable As The Shade By The Light Quivering Aspen Made; When Pain And Anguish Wring The Brow, A Ministering Angel Thou!

We Often Praise The Evening Clouds, And Tints So Gay And Bold, But Seldom Think Upon Our God, Who Tinged These Clouds With Gold.

Chivalry!---why, Maiden, She Is The Nurse Of Pure And High Affection---the Stay Of The Oppressed, The Redresser Of Grievances, The Curb Of The Power Of The Tyrant ---nobility Were But An Empty Name Without Her, And Liberty Finds The Best Protection In Her Lance And Her Sword.

We Are Like The Herb Which Flourisheth Most When It Is Most Trampled On.