Sweet Is Old Wine In Bottles, Ale

If Ancient Tales Say True, Nor Wrong These Holy Men.

Ancient Of Days! August Athena! Where, Where Are Thy Men Of Might? Thy Grand In Soul? Gone--glimmering Through The Dream Of Things That Were; First In The Race That Led To Glory's Goal, They Won, And Pass'd Away--is This The Whole?

There Are Some Feelings Time Cannot Benumb, Nor Torture Shake.

Though I Love My Country, I Do Not Love My Countrymen.

A Man Must Serve His Time To Every Trade, Save Censure-critics All Are Ready Made. Take Hackney'd Jokes From Miller, Got By Rote With Just Enough Learning To Misquote.