What Else Is Chance But The Rude

Even In A Righteous Cause Force Is A Fearful Thing.

When The Measured Dance Of The Hours Brings Back The Happy Smile Of Spring, The Buried Dead Is Born Again In The Life-glance Of The Sun. The Germs Which Perished To The Eye Within The Cold Breast Of The Earth Spring Up With Joy In The Bright Realm Of Day.

The Very Plants Turn With A Joyful Transport To The Light.

Of All The Possessions Of This Life Fame Is The Noblest; When The Body Has Sunk Into The Dust The Great Name Still Lives.

It Is Not Flesh And Blood, But Heart Which Makes Us Fathers And Sons.