No Music Is So Pleasant To My

The Laws Of Our Being Are Such That We Must Perform Some Degree Of Use In The World, Whether We Intend It, Or Not; But We Can Deprive Ourselves Of Its Indwelling Joy, By Acting Entirely From The Love Of Self.

Over The River And Through The Wood, To Grandfather's House We Go; The Horse Knows The Way To Carry The Sleigh, Through The White And Drifted Snow.

Not In Vain Is Ireland Pouring Itself All Over The Earth. The Irish, With Their Glowing Hearts And Reverent Credulity, Are Needed In This Cold Age Of Intellect And Skepticism.

We Must Not Forget That All Great Revolutions And Reformations Would Look Mean And Meagre If Examined In Detail As They Occurred At The Time.

Whoso Does Not See That Genuine Life Is A Battle And A March Has Poorly Read His Origin And His Destiny.