The Hushed Winds Their Sabbath Keep.

There Is No Glory In Star Or Blossom Till Looked Upon By A Loving Eye; There Is No Fragrance In April Breezes Till Breathed With Joy As They Wander By.

A Sculptor Wields The Chisel, And The Stricken Marble Grows To Beauty.

Look On This Beautiful World, And Read The Truth In Her Fair Page.

The Rose That Lives Its Little Hour Is Prized Beyone The Sculpted Flower.

Go Forth Under The Open Sky, And List To Nature's Teachings.