Go Forth Under The Open Sky, And

Lo! While We Are Gazing, In Swifter Haste Stream Down The Snows, Till The Air Is White, As, Myriads By Myriads Madly Chased, They Fling Themselves From Their Shadowy Height. The Fair, Frail Creatures Of Middle Sky, What Speed They Make, With Their Grave So Nigh; Flake After Flake, To Lie In The Dark And Silent Lake!

Truth Crushed To Earth Shall Rise Again,- The Eternal Years Of God Are Hers; But Error, Wounded, Writhes With Pain, And Dies Among His Worshippers.

Difficulty, My Brethren, Is The Nurse Of Greatness - A Harsh Nurse, Who Roughly Rocks Her Foster Children Into Strength And Athletic Proportion.

Thine Eyes Are Springs In Whose Serene And Silent Waters Heaven Is Seen. Their Lashes Are The Herbs That Look On Their Young Figures In The Brook.

The February Sunshine Steeps Your Boughs And Tints The Buds And Swells The Leaves Within.