It Is A Very Great Thing To

The Will Is Free; Strong Is The Soul, And Wise, And Beautiful; The Seeds Of Godlike Power Are In Us Still; Gods Are We, Bards, Saints, Heroes, If We Will!

Was Christ A Man Like Us?-ah! Let Us Try If We Then, Too, Can Be Such Men As He!

The Bent Of Our Time Is Towards Science, Towards Knowing Things As They Are.

Alas! Is Even Love Too Weak To Unlock The Heart, And Let It Speak? Are Even Lovers Powerless To Reveal To One Another What Indeed They Feel? I Knew The Mass Of Men Conceal'd Their Thoughts, For Fear That If Reveal'd They Would By Other Men Be Met With Blank Indifference, Or With Blame Reproved; I Knew They Lived And Moved Trick'd In Disguises, Alien To The Rest Of Men, And Alien To Themselves - And Yet The Same Heart Beats In Every Human Breast!

Coldly, Sadly Descends The Autumn Evening. The Field Strewn With Its Dank Yellow Drifts Of Wither'd Leaves, And The Elms, Fade Into Dimness Apace, Silent; Hardly A Shout From A Few Boys Late At Their Play!