The Meanest Flowret Of The

The Still Small Voice Of Gratitude.

Some Bold Adventurers Disdain The Limits Of Their Little Reign, And Unknown Regions Date Descry.

Some Village Hampden, That With Dauntless Breast The Little Tyrant Of His Fields Withstood, Some Mute Inglorious Milton Here May Rest, Some Cromwell Guiltless Of His Country's Blood.

If The Best Man's Faults Were Written On His Forehead, He Would Draw His Hat Over His Eyes.

Dear As The Light That Visits These Sad Eyes, Dear As The Ruddy Drops That Warm My Heart.