God Lends A Helping Hand To The

The Moving Light, Rejoicing In Its Strength, Sped From The Pyre Of Pine, And Urged Its Way, In Golden Glory, Like Some Strange New Sun.

The Man Who Does Ill, Ill Must Suffer Too.

I Willingly Speak To Those Who Know, But For Those Who Do Not Know I Forget.

Take Courage; Pain's Extremity Soon Ends.

But I Will Place This Carefully Fed Pig Within The Crackling Oven; And, I Pray, What Nicer Dish Can E'er Be Given To Man.