My Crown Is In My

We Make Ourselves Fools To Disport Ourselves And Spend Our Flatteries To Drink Those Men Upon Whose Age We Void It Up Again With Poisonous Spite And Envy.

Striving To Better, Oft We Mar What’s Well.

O God Of Battles! Steel My Soldiers’ Hearts. Possess Them Not With Fear.

I Feel Within Me A Peace Above All Earthly Dignities, A Still And Quiet Conscience.

I Do Not Seek To Quench Your Love's Hot Fire, But Qualify The Fire's Extreme Rage, Lest It Should Burn Above The Bounds Of Reason.