Weave no more silks, ye Lyons looms, To deck our girls for gay delights! The crimson flower of battle blooms, And solemn marches fill the nights.

The strokes of the pen need deliberation as much as the sword needs swiftness.

The flag of our stately battles, not struggles of wrath and greed, Its stripes were a holy lesson, its spangles a deathless creed: 'T was red with the blood of…

I am confirmed in my division of human energies. Ambitious people climb, but faithful people build.