Unattributed Author

The White Plume of Navarre.

The White Plume of Navarre.

To shoot at crows is powder flung away.

To shoot at crows is powder flung away.

When treading London's well-known ground
If e'er I feel my spirits tire,
I haul my sail, look read more

When treading London's well-known ground
If e'er I feel my spirits tire,
I haul my sail, look up around,
In search of Whitbread's best entire.
- Unattributed Author,

As drifting logs of wood may haply meet
On ocean's waters surging to and fro,
And having read more

As drifting logs of wood may haply meet
On ocean's waters surging to and fro,
And having met, drift once again apart,
So, fleeting is the intercourse of men.
E'en as a traveler meeting with the shade
Of some o'erhung tree, awhile reposes,
Then leaves its shelter to pursue his ways,
So men meet friends, then part with them for ever.

A man is either free or he is not.

A man is either free or he is not.