Let None Admire That Riches Grow In

Fate Shall Yield To Fickle Chance, And Chaos Judge The Strife.

Let No Man Seek Henceforth To Be Foretold That Shall Befall Him Or His Children.

With A Smile That Glow'd Celestial Rosy Red, Love's Proper Hue.

Thus With The Year Seasons Return, But Not To Me Returns Day, Or The Sweet Approach Of Ev'n Or Morn, Or Sight Of Vernal Bloom, Or Summer's Rose, Or Flocks, Or Herds, Or Human Face Divine.

All Is Not Lost, The Unconquerable Will, And Study Of Revenge, Immortal Hate, And The Courage Never To Submit Or Yield.