Love's Very Pain Is Sweet

Men Of England, Wherefore Plough For The Lords Who Lay You Low?

Religion Pervades Intensely The Whole Frame Of Society, And Is According To The Temper Of The Mind Which It Inhabits, A Passion, A Persuasion, An Excuse, A Refuge; Never A Check.

Power, Like A Desolating Pestilence, Pollutes Whate'er It Touches; And Obedience, Bane Of All Genius, Virtue, Freedom, Truth, Makes Slaves Of Men, And Of The Human Frame A Mechanized Automaton.

There Is A Harmony In Autumn, And A Luster In Its Sky...

But Hope Will Make Thee Young, For Hope And Youth Are Children Of One Mother, Even Love.