Ye Are Brothers! Ye Are Men! And

On Linden, When The Sun Was Low, All Bloodless Lay The Untrodden Snow, And Dark As Winter Was The Flow Of Iser, Rolling Rapidly.

Truth Ever Lovely - Since The World Began, The Foe Of Tyrants, And The Friend Of Man.

What Though My Winged Hours Of Bliss Have Been, Like Angel Visits, Few And Far Between.

But Sad As Angels For The Good Man's Sin, Weep To Record, And Blush To Give It In.

The Soul Of Conversation Is Sympathy