Know How Sublime A Thing

Glorious Indeed Is The World Of God Around Us, But More Glorious The World Of God Within Us.

I Do Not Believe Anyone Can Be Perfectly Well, Who Has A Brain And A Heart

Ah, How Good It Feels! The Hand Of An Old Friend.

The Warriors That Fought For Their Country, And Bled, Have Sunk To Their Rest; The Damp Earth Is Their Bed; No Stone Tells The Place Where Their Ashes Repose, Nor Points Out The Spot From The Graves Of Their Foes. They Died In Their Glory, Surrounded By Fame, And Victory's Loud Trump Their Death Did Proclaim; They Are Dead; But They Live In Each Patriot's Breast, And Their Names Are Engraven On Honor's Bright Crest.

A Millstone And The Human Heart Are Driven Ever Round, If They Have Nothing Else To Grind, They Must Themselves Be Ground.