I Am Never Indifferent, And Never Pretend

By The Shore Of Gitche Gumee, By The Shining Big-sea-water, At The Doorway Of His Wigwam, In The Pleasant Summer Morning, Hiawatha Stood And Waited.

How Wonderful Is The Human Voice! It Is Indeed The Organ Of The Soul. The Intellect Of Man Is Enthroned Visibly On His Forehead And In His Eye, And The Heart Of Man Is Written On His Countenance, But The Soul, The Soul Reveals Itself In The Voice Only.

How Absolute And Omnipotent Is The Silence Of Night! And Yet The Stillness Seems Almost Audible! From All The Measureless Depths Of Air Around Us Comes A Half-sound, A Half-whisper, As If We Could Hear The Crumbling And Falling Away Of Earth And All Created Things, In The Great Miracle Of Nature, Decay And Reproduction, Ever Beginning, Never Ending,--the Gradual Lapse And Running Of The Sand In The Great Hour-glass Of Time.

There's Not A Ship That Sails The Ocean, But Every Climate, Every Soil, Must Bring Its Tribute, Great Or Small, And Help To Build The Wooden Wall!

Many Have Genius, But, Wanting Art, Are Forever Dumb. The Two Must Go Together To Form The Great Poet, Painter, Or Sculptor.