The Fireflies O'er The Meadow In Pulses

The New World's Sons From England's Breast We Drew Such Milk As Bids Remember Whence We Came, Proud Of Her Past Wherefrom Our Future Grew, This Window We Inscribe With Raleigh's Fame.

Sentiment Is Intellectualized Emotion; Emotion Precipitated, As It Were, In Pretty Crystals By The Fancy.

Enthusiasm Begets Enthusiasm, Eloquence Produces Conviction For The Moment; But It Is Only By Truth To Nature And The Everlasting Institutions Of Mankind That Those Abiding Influences Are Won That Enlarge From Generation To Generation.

All God's Angels Come To Us Disguised.

Better One Bite At Forty, Of Truths Bitter Rind, Than The Hot Wine That Gushed From The Vintage Of Twenty.