Prais'd be the fathomless universe. 



For life and joy, and for objects and knowledge curious. 



Walt Whitman. 



J'ai I'amour de la raison, je n'en ai pas le fanatisme. 



Anatole France. 



Then sing, ye Birds, sing, sing a joyous song I 



And let the young Lambs bound 



As to the tabor's sound ! 

 We in thought will join your throng. 



Ye that pipe and ye that play. 



Ye that through your hearts to-day 



Feel the gladness of the May I 



W. Wordsworth. 



