Money Is The God Of Our Time,

No Talent, But Yet A Character. [ger., Kein Talent, Doch Ein Charakter.]

The Great Pulsation Of Nature Beats Too In My Breast, And When I Carol Aloud, I Am Answered By A Thousand-fold Echo. I Hear A Thousand Nightingales. Spring Hath Sent Them To Awaken Earth From Her Morning Slumber, And Earth Trembles With Ecstasy, Her Flowers Are Hymns, Which She Sings In Inspiration To The Sun.

Every Age Thinks Its Battle The Most Important Of All.

The Air Grows Cool And Darkles, The Rhine Flows Calmly On; The Mountain Summit Sparkles In The Light Of The Setting Sun.

The Beauteous Eyes Of The Spring's Fair Night With Comfort Are Downward Gazing.