The earth was all before me. With a heart Joyous, nor scared at its own liberty, I look about; and should the chosen guide Be nothing better than a wandering cloud, I cannot miss my way.

And the most difficult of tasks to keep Heights which the soul is competent to gain.

The childhood of today is the manhood of tomorrow

Controls them and subdues, transmutes, bereaves Of their bad influence, and their good receives.

What know we of the Blest above but that they sing, and that they love?

Give all thou canst; high Heaven rejects the lore of nicely-caluculated less or more.

The fretful stir Unprofitable, and the fever of the world Have hung upon the beatings of my heart.