All that is beautiful shall abide, All that is base shall die.

All that is beautiful shall abide, All that is base shall die.

I wander forth this chill December dawn: John Frost and all his elves are out, I see, As busy as the elfin world can be, Clothing a world asleep with fleecy lawn.

The earth is rocking, the skies are riven-- Jove in a passion, in god-like fashion, Is breaking the crystal urns of heaven.

Beauty and Truth, tho' never found, are worthy to be sought.