Truth, Crushed To Earth, Shall Rise Again.

The Summer Morn Is Bright And Fresh, The Birds Are Darting By. As If They Loved To Breast The Breeze That Sweeps The Cool Clear Sky.

The Gentle Race Of Flowers Are Lying In Their Lowly Beds.

These Struggling Tides Of Life That Seem In Wayward, Aimless Course To Tend, Are Eddies Of The Mighty Stream That Rolls To Its Appointed End.

Features, The Great Soul's Apparent Seat.

Go Forth Under The Open Sky, And List To Nature's Teachings.