Our wills are ours, we know not how; Our wills are ours, to make them thine.

All Life needs for life is possible to will.

Hope smiles from the threshold of the year to come, whispering, 'It will be happier.'

The shell must break before the bird can fly.

And so the Word had breath, and wrought/ With human hands the creed of creeds/ In loveliness of perfect deeds,/ More strong than all poetic thought.

Ours not to reason why, ours but to do and die.