As Therefore The State Of Man Now

Sweet Is The Breath Of Morn, Her Rising Sweet, With Charm Of Earliest Birds.

Deep Vers'd In Books, And Shallow In Himself.

Our Country Is Where Ever We Are Well Off.

Let Us Go Forth And Resolutely Dare With Sweat Of Brow To Toil Our Little Day.

By This Time, Like One Who Had Set Out On His Way By Night, And Travelled Through A Region Of Smooth Or Idle Dreams, Our History Now Arrives On The Confines, Where Daylight And Truth Meet Us With A Clear Dawn, Representing To Our View, Though At A Far Distance, True Colours And Shapes.