How Like They Are To Human Things!

He Looks The Whole World In The Face For He Owes Not Any Man.

I See, But Cannot Reach, The Height That Lies Forever In The Light.

O Little Feet! That Such Long Years Must Wander On Through Hopes And Fears, Must Ache And Bleed Beneath Your Load; I, Nearer To The Wayside Inn Where Toil Shall Cease And Rest Begin, Am Weary, Thinking Of Your Road!

Ambition Is So Powerful A Passion In The Human Breast, That However High We Reach We Are Never Satisfied.

Taste The Joy That Springs From Labor.