A Merely Fallen Enemy May Rise Again,

Have Love. Not Love Alone For One, But Man As Man They Brother Call; And Scatter Like The Circling Sun Thy Charities On All.

Wouldst Thou Wisely, And With Pleasure, Pass The Days Of Life's Short Measure, From The Slow One Counsel Take, But A Tool Of Him Ne'er Make; Ne'er As Friend The Swift One Know, Nor The Constant One As Foe.

No Greater Grief Than To Remember Days Of Gladness When Sorrow Is At Hand.

Many A Crown Shines Spotless Now That Yet Was Deeply Sullied In The Winning.

Dare To Be Wrong And To Dream.