Ignorance Is Not Innocence But Sin.

What's The Earth With All Its Art, Verse, Music, Worth — Compared With Love, Found, Gained, And Kept?

How Strange Now, Looks The Life He Makes Us Lead; So Free We Seem, So Fettered Fast We Are!

Stung By The Splendour Of A Sudden Thought.

We Shall March Prospering,-not Thro' His Presence; Songs May Inspirit Us,-not From His Lyre; Deeds Will Be Done,-while He Boasts His Quiescence, Still Bidding Crouch Whom The Rest Bade Aspire.

For Life, With All Its Yields Of Joy And Woe Is Just A Chance O' The Prize Of Learning Love.