Eloquence Is The Poetry Of Prose.

Tender Pauses Speak The Overflow Of Gladness, When Words Are All Too Weak.

Music Is Not Merely A Study, It Is An Entertainment; Wherever There Is Music There Is A Throng Of Listeners.

Oh, River! Darkling River! What A Voice Is That Thou Utterest While All Else Is Still-- The Ancient Voice That, Centuries Ago, Sounded Between Thy Hills, While Rome Was Yet A Weedy Solitude By Tiber's Stream!

So They, Who Climb To Wealth, Forget The Friends In Darker Fortunes Tried. I Copied Them--but I Regret That I Should Ape The Ways Of Pride.

Look On This Beautiful World, And Read The Truth In Her Fair Page.