The feather, whence the pen Was shaped that traced the lives of these good men, Dropped from an angel's wing.

To the solid ground Of nature trusts the Mind that builds for aye.

The daisy, by the shadow that it casts, Protects the lingering dewdrop from the sun.

Wisdom is oftentimes nearer when we stoop than when we soar.

This City now doth like a garment wear The beauty of the morning; silent, bare, Ships, towers, domes, theatres and temples lie Open unto the fields and to the sky; All bright and glittering in the smokeless air.

Thou has left behind Powers that will work for thee,-air, earth, and skies! There 's not a breathing of the common wind That will forget thee; thou hast great allies; Thy friends are exultations, agonies, And love, and man's unconquerable mind.

Come forth into the light of things, let nature be your teacher.