Sleep The Sleep That Knows Not Breaking,

Then Hush Thee, My Darling, Take Rest While You May, For Strife Comes With Manhood, And Waking With Day.

A Rusted Nail, Placed Near The Faithful Compass, Will Sway It From The Truth, And Wreck The Argosy.

Thou Hast Had Thty Day, Old Dame, But Thy Sun Has Long Been Set. Thou Art Now The Very Emblem Of An Old Warhorse Turned Out On The Barren Heath; Thou Hast Had Thy Paces In Thy Time, But Now A Broken Amble Is The Best Of Them.

Thou And I Are But The Blind Instruments Of Some Irresistible Fatality, That Hurries Us Along, Like Goodly Vessels Driving Before The Storm, Which Are Dashed Against Each Other, And So Perish.

All Men Who Have Turned Out Worth Anything Have Had The Chief Hand In Their Own Education.