All Your Strength In Is Your Union.

A Noble Type Of Good. Heroic Womanhood.

If Spring Came But Once A Century Instead Of Once A Year, Or Burst Forth With The Sound Of An Earthquake And Not In Silence, What Wonder And Expectation There Would Be In All The Hearts To Behold The Miraculous Change.

There's Nothing Fair Nor Beautiful, But Takes Something From Thee, That Makes It Beautiful.

Not Enjoyment, And Not Sorrow, Is Our Destined End Or Way; But To Act, That Each Tomorrow Find Us Farther Than Today.

Through Woods And Mountain Passes The Winds, Like Anthems, Roll.