O Maternal Earth Which Rocks The Fallen

To This Generation I Would Say: Memorize Some Bit Of Verse Of Truth Or Beauty.

Such Phantom Blossoms Palely Shining Over The Lifeless Boughs Of Time.

Why, A Moral Truth Is A Hollow Tooth Which Must Be Propped With Gold.

Genius Is A Bend In The Creek Where Bright Water Has Gathered, And Which Mirrors The Trees, The Sky And The Banks. It Just Does That Because It Is There And The Scenery Is There. Talent Is A Fine Mirror With A Silver Frame, With The Name Of The Owner Engraved On The Back.

Beware Of The Man Who Rises To Power From One Suspender.