Read From Some Humbler Poet, Whose Songs

The Market-place, The Eager Love Of Gain, Whose Aim Is Vanity, And Whose End Is Pain!

The Twilight That Surrounds The Border-land Of Old Romance.

Winter Giveth The Fields, And The Trees So Old, Their Beards Of Icicles And Snow.

An Enlightened Mind Is Not Hoodwinked; It Is Not Shut Up In A Gloomy Prison Till It Thinks The Walls Of Its Dungeon The Limits Of The Universe, And The Reach Of Its Own Chain The Outer Verge Of Intelligence.

A Lady With A Lamp Shall Stand In The Great History Of The Land, A Noble Type Of Good, Heroic Womanhood.