The April Winds Are Magical, And Thrill

Let Us Stun And Astonish The Intruding Rabble Of Men And Books And Institutions By A Simple Declaration Of The Divine Fact. Bid The Invaders Take The Shoes From Off Their Feet, For God Is Here Within.

For Everything You Have Missed, You Have Gained Something Else, And For Everything You Gain, You Lose Something Else.

Scholarship Is To Be Created Not By Compulsion, But By Awakening A Pure Interest In Knowledge.

The April Winds Are Magical, And Thrill Our Tuneful Frames; The Garden-walks Are Passional To Bachelors And Dames.

The Soul Is Not Born; It Does Not Die; It Was Not Produced From Anyone… Unborn, Eternal, It Is Not Slain, Though The Body Is Slain.