Euclid Alone Has Looked On Beauty Bare.

Longing Alone Is Singer To The Lute.

Curse Thee, Life, I Will Live With Thee No More! Thou Hast Mocked Me, Starved Me, Beat My Body Sore! And All For A Pledge That Was Not Pledged By Me, I Have Kissed Thy Crust And Eaten Sparingly That I Might Eat Again, And Met Thy Sneers With Deprecations, And Thy Blows With Tears.

Pour Away Despair And Rinse The Cup. Eat Happiness Like Bread.

Youth, Have No Pity; Leave No Farthing Here For Age To Invest In Compromise And Fear.

Blessed Be Death, That Cuts In Marble What Would Have Sunk To Dust!