There's a fount about to stream, There's a light about to beam, There's a warmth about to glow, There's a flower about to blow; There's a midnight blackness changing Into gray; Men of thought and men of action, Clear the way.

Tell me, ye wingèd winds That round my pathway roar, Know ye not some spot Where mortals weep no more?

But the sunshine aye shall light the sky, As round and round we run; And the truth shall ever come uppermost, And justice shall be done.

Old Tubal Cain was a man of might In the days when earth was young.

An arrow may fly through the air and leave no trace; but an ill thought leaves a trail like a serpent.

Men, it has been well said, think in herds; it will be seen that they go mad in herds, while they only recover their senses slowly, and one by one.

Water is the mother of the vine, the nurse and fountain of fecundity, the adorner and refresher of the world.