No Endeavour Is In Vain; Its Reward

If A Woman Shows Too Often The Medusa's Head, She Must Not Be Astonished If Her Lover Is Turned Into Stone.

The Wreck Of The Hesperus But The Father Answered Never A Word, A Frozen Corpse Was He.

See Yonder Little Cloud, That, Borne Aloft So Tenderly By The Wind, Floats Fast Away Over The Snowy Peaks!

Let Us Then, Be Up And Doing.

Art Is The Child Of Nature In Whom We Trace The Features Of The Mothers Face.