Contentions Fierce, Ardent, And Dire,

Where Lives The Man That Has Not Tried How Mirth Can Into Folly Glide, And Folly Into Sin!

Despite Those Titles, Power, And Pelf, The Wretch, Concentred All In Self, Living, Shall Forfeit Fair Renown, And, Doubly Dying, Shall Go Down To The Vile Dust, From Whence He Sprung, Unwept, Unhonor'd, And Unsung.

Stood For His Country's Glory Fast, And Nailed Her Colors To The Mast!

I Will Tear This Folly From My Heart, Though Every Fibre Bleed As I Rend It Away!

Chess Is A Sad Waste Of Brains.