Praise They That Will Times Past, I

Conquer We Shall, But, We Must First Contend! It's Not The Fight That Crowns Us, But The End.

None Pities Him That Is In The Snare, Who Warned Before, Would Not Beware.

Rise And Put On Your Foliage, And Be Seen To Come Forth, Like The Springtime, Fresh And Green

Her Eyes The Glowworm Lend Thee, The Shooting Stars Attend Thee; And The Elves Also, Whose Little Eyes Glow Like The Sparks Of Fire, Befriend Thee.

Wealth Cannot Make A Life, But Love.