Lars Porsena Of Clusium By The Nine

Oh, Wherefore Come Ye Forth In Triumph From The North, With Your Hands, And Your Feet, And Your Raiment All Red? And Wherefore Doth Your Rout Send Forth A Joyous Shout? And Whence Be The Grapes Of The Wine-press Which Ye Tread?

I Would Rather Be Poor In A Cottage Full Of Books Than A King Without The Desire To Read.

Lars Porsena Of Clusium By The Nine Gods He Swore That The Great House Of Tarquin Should Suffer Wrongs No More.

The Conformation Of His Mind Was Such That Whatever Was Little Seemed To Him Great, And Whatever Was Great Seemed To Him Little.

We Do Not Think It Necessary To Prove That A Quack Medicine Is Poison; Let The Vender Prove It To Be Sanative.