Our American republic will endure only as long as the ideas of the men who founded it continue dominant.

If God made poets for anything, it was to keep alive the traditions of the pure, the holy, and the beautiful.

Nature, they say, doth dote, And cannot make a man Save on some worn-out plan, Repeating us by rote.

Truth forever on the scaffold, Wrong forever on the throne.

And the choice goes by forever 'twixt that darkness and that light.

Taste is the next gift to genius.

And blessed are the horny hands of toil.