All Are Of The Race Of God,

Let Each Man Think Himself An Act Of God, His Mind A Thought, His Life A Breath Of God; And Let Each Try, By Great Thoughts And Good Deeds, To Show The Most Of Heaven He Hath In Him.

It Is Fine To Stand Upon Some Lofty Mountain Thought, And Feel The Spirit Stretch Into A View.

Look On The Bee Upon The Wing 'mong Flowers; How Brave, How Bright His Life! Then Mark, Him Hiv'd, Cramp'd, Cringing In His Self-built, Social Cell, Thus It Is In The World-hive; Most Where Men Lie Deep In Cities As In Drifts.

Grief Hallows Hearts, Even While It Ages Heads.

We Love And Live In Power; It Is The Spirit's End. Mind Must Subdue; To Conquer Is Its Life.