There are few earthly things more beautiful than a university a place where those who hate ignorance may strive to know, where those who perceive truth may strive to make others see.

I must go down to the sea again For the call of the running tide It's a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied.

In this life he laughs longest who laughs last.

It's a warm wind, the west wind, full of birds' cries.

And may we find when ended is the page, Death but a tavern on our pilgrimage.

Quinquireme of Nineveh from distant Ophir, Rowing home to haven in sunny Palestine, With a cargo of ivory, And apes and peacocks, Sandalwood, cedarwood, and sweet white wine.

But he has gone, A nation's memory and veneration, Among the radiant, ever venturing on, Somewhere, with morning, as such spirits will.