Oh never star Was lost here but it rose afar.

I do what many dream of, all their lives

O world, as God has made it! All is beauty.

How good is man's life, the mere living! How fit to employ all the heart and the soul and the senses forever in joy!

There are those who believe something, and therefore will tolerate nothing; and on the other hand, those who tolerate everything, because they believe nothing.

A people is but the attempt of many To rise to the completer life of one; And those who live as models for the mass Are singly of more value than they all.

What? Was man made a wheel-work to wind up, And be discharged, and straight wound up anew? No! grown, his growth lasts; taught, he ne'er forgets: May learn a thousand things, not twice the same.