The Thoughts Of Youth Are

Great Men Stand Like Solitary Towers In The City Of God.

Nothing That Is Can Pause Or Stay.

In This World A Man Must Either Be Anvil Or Hammer.

Be Still, Sad Heart! And Cease Repining; Behind The Clouds Is The Sun Still Shining; Thy Fate Is The Common Fate Of All, Into Each Life Some Rain Must Fall

Who Ne'er His Bread In Sorrow Ate, Who Ne'er The Mournful Midnight Hours Weeping Upon His Bed Has Sate, He Knows You Not, Ye Heavenly Powers.