Hail To The Chief Who In Triumph

Who, Noteless As The Race From Which He Sprung, Saved Others' Names, But Left His Own Unsung.

Sleep The Sleep That Knows Not Breaking, Morn Of Toil, Nor Night Of Waking.

One Crowded Hour Of Glorious Life Is Worth An Age Without A Name

Many Miles Away There's A Shadow On The Door Of A Cottage On The Shore Of A Dark Scottish Lake.

Marry In Haste, Repent At Leisure.