Pan Is Dead! Great Pan Is Dead!

When God Helps All The Workers For His World, The Singers Shall Have Help Of Him, Not Last.

Get Leave To Work In This World,--'tis The Best You Get At All.

Too Much Beauty, I Reckon, Is Nothing But Too Much Sun.

When We First Met And Loved, I Did Not Build Upon The Event With Marble. . . .

The Essence Of All Beauty, I Call Love.