Our cheer goes back to them, the valiant dead! Laurels and roses on their graves to-day, lilies and laurels over them we lay, and violets o'er each unforgotten head.

The East and the West in the spring of the world shall blend / As a man and a woman that plight / Their troth in the warm spring night.

For 't is always fair weather When good fellows get together With a stein on the table and a good song ringing clear.

There is no sorrow like a love denied. Nor any joy like love that has its will.

And you prate of the wealth of nations, as if it were bought and sold, The wealth of nations is men, not silk and cotton and gold.

Our cheer goes back to them, the valiant dead! Laurels and roses on their graves to-day, lilies and laurels over them we lay, and violets o'er each unforgotten head.

I do not know beneath what sky nor on what seas shall be thy fate; I only know it shall be high, I only know it shall be great.