By Turns The Nine Delight To Sing

Whatever Day Makes Man A Slave, Takes Half His Worth Away.

There Is A Fullness Of All Things, Even Of Sleep And Love.

Bear Patiently, My Heart, For You Have Suffered Heavier Things.

Take Thou Thy Arms And Come With Me, For We Must Quit Ourselves Like Men, And Strive To Air Our Cause, Although We Be But Two. Great Is The Strength Of Feeble Arms Combined, And We Can Combat Even With The Brave.

Few Sons Are Equal To Their Fathers; Most Fall Short, All Too Few Surpass Them.