In Youth All Doors Open Outward; In

Thus, Seamed With Many Scars Bursting These Prison Bars, Up To Its Native Stars My Soul Ascended! There From The Flowing Bowl Deep Drinks The Warrior's Soul, Skoal! To The Northland! Skoal! Thus The Tale Ended.

Our Hearts Are Lamps For Ever Burning.

The Day Is Dark And Cold And Dreary; It Rains, And The Wind Is Never Weary.

Every Man Has His Secret Sorrows.

No Tears Dim The Sweet Look That Nature Wears.