And If I Drink Oblivion Of A

For Singing Till His Heaven Fills, 'tis Love Of Earth That He Instills, And Ever Winging Up And Up, Our Valley Is His Golden Cup, And He The Wine Which Over Flows To Lift Us With Him As He Goes.

O Have A Care Of Natures That Are Mute!

Around The Ancient Track Marched, Rank On Rank, The Army Of Unalterable Law.

Memoirs Are The Backstairs Of History.

The Song Seraphically Free Of Taint Of Personality, So Pure That It Salutes The Suns The Voice Of One For Millions, In Whom The Millions Rejoice For Giving Their One Spirit Voice.