Our Purpose Is To Grow Up And

Triumphal Arch, That Fill'st The Sky When Storms Prepare To Part, I Ask Not Proud Philosophy To Teach Me What Thou Art.

Love! The Surviving Gift Of Heaven, The Choicest Sweet Of Paradise, In Life's Else Bitter Cup Distilled.

Oh, How Hard It Is To Find The One Just Suited To Our Mind!

Men Of England! Who Inheritrights That Cost Your Sires Their Blood.

Ye Mariners Of England! That Guard Our Native Seas; Whose Flag Has Braved A Thousand Years, The Battle And The Breeze!