Truth, crushed to earth, shall rise again.
Look on this beautiful world, and read the truth in her fair page.
The stormy March has come at last, With winds and clouds and changing skies; I hear the rushing of the blast That through the snowy valley flies.
Music is not merely a study, it is an entertainment; wherever there is music there is a throng of listeners.
Go forth under the open sky, and list To Nature's teachings.
Thou blossom bright with autumn dew, And colored with the heaven's own blue.