Sail On, O Ship Of State! Sail

Gone Are The Birds That Were Our Summer Guests.

Sang In Tones Of Deep Emotion Songs Of Love And Songs Of Longing.

O Little Souls! As Pure As White And Crystalline As Rays Of Light Direct From Heaven, Their Source Divine; Refracted Through The Mist Of Years, How Red My Setting Sun Appears, How Lurid Looks This Soul Of Mine!

Happy Art Thou, As If Every Day Thou Hadst Picked Up A Horseshoe.

Is This Is A Dream? O, If It Be A Dream, Let Me Sleep On, And Do Not Wake Me Yet!