• Between the mountains and the sea,
      Walled by the rock, fringed by the foam,
    A valley stretches fair and free
      Beneath the blue of heaven’s dome.

    At rest in that fair valley lies
      Saint Barbara, the beauteous maid;
    Above her head the cloudless skies
      Smile down upon her charms displayed.

    The sunlit mountains o’er her shed...

  • [Florence Nightingale]
    WHENE’ER a noble deed is wrought,
    Whene’er is spoken a noble thought,
        Our hearts, in glad surprise,
        To higher levels rise.

    The tidal wave of deeper souls
    Into our inmost being rolls,
        And lifts us unawares
        Out of all meaner cares.

    Honor to those whose words or deeds
    Thus...