All Flowers Will Droop In

Blown Roses Hold Their Sweetness To The Last.

No King Nor Nation One Moment Can Retard The Appointed Hour.

Time Glides With Undiscover'd Haste; The Future But A Length Behind The Past.

Better One Suffer Than A Nation Grieve.

Damn'd Neuters, In Their Middle Way Of Steering, Are Neither Fish, Nor Flesh, Nor Good Red Herring.