How Can A Bird That Is Born

How Can The Bird That Is Born For Joy Sit In A Cage And Sing? How Can A Child, When Fears Annoy, But Droop His Tender Wing, And Forget His Youthful Spring?

He Who Sees The Infinite In All Things Sees God.

Where There Is Money There Is No Art.

How Sweet I Roamed From Field To Field, And Tasted All The Summer's Pride, Till I The Prince Of Love Beheld, Who In The Sunny Beams Did Glide!

The Stars Are Threshed, And The Souls Are Threshed From Their Husks.