To Be Beloved Is All I Need,

God! Sing, Ye Meadow-streams, With Gladsome Voice! Ye Pine-groves, With Your Soft And Soul-like Sounds! And They Too Have A Voice, You Piles Of Snow, And In Their Perilous Fall Shall Thunder, God!

Often Do The Spirits Stride On Before The Event; And In Today Already Walks Tomorrow.

Earth, With Her Thousand Voices, Praises God.

The First Man Of Science Was He Who Looked Into A Thing, Not To Learn Whether It Furnished Him With Food, Or Shelter, Or Weapons, Or Tools, Armaments, Or Playwiths But Who Sought To Know It For The Gratification Of Knowing.

The Fair Breeze Blew, The White Foam Flew, And The Forrow Followed Free. We Were The First To Ever Burst Into The Silent Sea.