As To The Pure Mind

The Sun Is Set; And In His Latest Beams Yon Little Cloud Of Ashen Gray And Gold, Slowly Upon The Amber Air Unrolled, The Falling Mantle Of The Prophet Seems.

From Dust Thou Art To Dust Returneth, Was Not Spoken Of The Soul.

Sail On, O Ship Of State! Sail On, O Union, Strong And Great.

The Heart, Like The Mind, Has A Memory. And In It Are Kept The Most Precious Keepsakes.

In The World's Broad Field Of Battle, In The Bivouac Of Life, Be Not Like Dumb, Driven Cattle! Be A Hero In The Strife!