Soft winds blow,
Westward born;
Onward go,
Toward the morn.
—George Eliot.
Millions for defense, but not one cent for tribute.
—C. C. Pinckney.
DUTY.
So nigh is grandeur to our dust,
Soft winds blow,
Westward born;
Onward go,
Toward the morn.
—George Eliot.
Millions for defense, but not one cent for tribute.
—C. C. Pinckney.
So nigh is grandeur to our dust,