Greatness Is A Spiritual Condition.

The Sea Is Calm Tonight. The Tide Is Full, The Moon Lies Fair Upon The Straits;- On The French Coast The Light Gleams And Is Gone; The Cliffs Of England Stand, Glimmering And Vast, Out In The Tranquil Bay.

We Do Not What We Ought; What We Ought Not, We Do; And Lean Upon The Thought That Chance Will Bring Us Through; But Our Own Acts, For Good Or Ill, Are Mightier Powers.

Culture Looks Beyond Machinery, Culture Hates Hatred; Culture Has One Great Passion--the Passion For Sweetness And Light. It Has One Even Yet Greater, The Passion For Making Them All Prevail. It Is Not Satisfied Till We All Come To A Perfect Man; It Knows That The Sweetness And Light Of The Few Must Be Imperfect Until The Raw And Unkindly Masses Of Humanity Are Touched With Sweetness And Light.

Dreams Dawn And Fly: Friends Smile And Die, Like Spring Flowers. Our Vaunted Life Is One Long Funeral. Men Dig Graves, With Bitter Tears, For Their Dead Hopes; And All, Mazed With Doubts, And Sick With Fears, Count The Hours.

Bald As The Bare Mountain Tops Are Bald, With A Baldness Full Of Grandeur.