Truth, Crushed To Earth, Shall Rise Again.

Ah! Never Shall The Land Forget.

Fairest Of All That Earth Beholds, The Hues That Live Among The Clouds, And Flush The Air, Lingering, And Deepening At The Hour Of Dews.

Ye Winds Ye Unseen Currents Of The Air, Softly Ye Played A Few Brief Hours Ago; Ye Bore The Murmuring Bee; Ye Tossed The Air O'er Maiden Cheeks, That Took A Fresher Glow; Ye Rolled The Round White Cloud Through Depths Of Blue; Ye Shook From Shaded Flowers The Lingering Dew; Before You The Catalpa's Blossoms Flew, Light Blossoms, Dropping On The Grass Like Snow.

Do Not The Bright June Roses Blow To Meet Thy Kiss At Morning Hours?

Genius, With All Its Pride In Its Own Strength, Is But A Dependent Quality, And Cannot Put Forth Its Whole Powers Nor Claim All Its Honors Without An Amount Of Aid From The Talents And Labors Of Others Which It Is Difficult To Calculate.