I Do Not See Why We Should

See The Land, Her Easter Keeping, Rises As Her Maker Rose. Seeds, So Long In Darkness Sleeping, Burst At Last From Winter Snows. Earth With Heaven Above Rejoices.

Music Is A Sacred, A Divine, A God-like Thing, And Was Given To Man By Christ To Lift Our Hearts Up To God, And Make Us Feel Something Of The Glory And Beauty Of God, And Of All Which God Has Made.

It's All In The Day's Work, As The Huntsman Said When The Lion Ate Him.

Except A Living Man There Is Nothing More Wonderful Than A Book! A Message From The Dead - From Human Souls We Never Saw, Who Lived, Perhaps, Thousands Of Miles Away. And Yet These, In Those Little Sheets Of Paper, Speak To Us, Arouse Us, Terrify Us, Comfort Us, Open Their Hearts To Us As Brothers.

Gradually The Sunken Land Begins To Rise Again, And Falls Perhaps Again, And Rises Again After That, More And More Gently Each Time, Till As It Were The Panting Earth, Worn Out With The Fierce Passions Of Her Fiery Youth, Has Sobbed Herself To Sleep Once More, And This New World Of Man Is Made.