As Leaves On The Trees, Such Is

Long Exercised In Woes.

Bursts As A Wave That From The Clouds Impends, And Swell'd With Tempests On The Ship Descends; White Are The Decks With Foam; The Winds Aloud Howl O'er The Masts, And Sing Through Every Shroud: Pale, Trembling, Tir'd, The Sailors Freeze With Fears; And Instant Death On Every Wave Appears.

It's Man's To Fight, But Heaven's To Give Success.

Do Not Mourn The Dead With The Belly.

The God Of War Will See Fair Play-he's Often Slain That Wants To Slay!