We are dedicated to teach as much as possible during each class. We are comprehending that more civics needs to be taught in schools.Our vision is for classrooms to be open and friendly settings that allow students to contribute.

Nature's Way (song)
by Spirit

It's nature's way of telling you something's wrong
It's nature's way of telling you in a song
It's nature's way of receiving you
It's nature's way of retrieving you
It's nature's way of telling you
Something's wrong

It's nature's way of telling you, summer breeze
It's nature's way of telling you, dying trees
It's nature's way of receiving you
It's nature's way of retrieving you
It's nature's way of telling you
Something's wrong

It's nature's way, it's nature's way
It's nature's way, it's nature's way

It's nature's way of telling you
Something's wrong
It's nature's way of telling you
In a song, oh-h

It's nature's way of receiving you
It's nature's way
It's nature's way of retrieving you
It's nature's way
It's nature's way of telling you
Something's wrong, something's wrong, something's wrong


Nature's Way (poem)

When the distant evening bell calmly breathes its blessing;
When the moonlight to the trees speaks in words caressing;

When the stars with radiance gaze towards the sleeping flowers, then does nature bare her soul, giving strength to ours.

--Charles Edward Ives - 1908.(1874-1954)

For The Baltimore Visiter:

SERENADE

So sweet the hour - so calm the time,
I feel it more than half a crime
When Nature sleeps and stars are mute,
To mar the silence ev'n with lute.

At rest on ocean's brilliant dies
An image of Elysium lies:
Seven Pleiades entranced in Heaven,
Form in the deep another seven:
Endymion nodding from above

Sees in the sea a second love:
Within the valleys dim and brown,
And on the spectral mountains [mountain's] crown
The wearied light is lying down :

The earth, and stars, and sea, and sky
Are redolent of sleep, as I
Am redolent of thee and thine
Enthralling love, my Adeline.

But list, O list! - so soft and low
Thy lover's voice to night shall flow
That, scarce awake, thy soul shall deem
My words the music of a dream.

Thus, while no single sound too rude,
Upon thy slumber shall intrude,
Our thoughts, our souls - O God above!
In every deed shall mingle, love.

-- by E. A. POE.

[Text: Edgar Allan Poe, "Serenade," Baltimore Saturday Visiter, April 20, 1833, p. 1, middle of column 4.]

This poem, never collected during Poe's lifetime, was discovered by John C. French in 1917. French printed the text twice, with some alterations in punctuation, here restored form the original printings in the Baltimore Saturday Visiter. There is no introductory or explanatory text in the Visiter related to the poem.]