A Pin Has A Head, But Has

January Cold And Desolate; February Dripping Wet; March Wind Ranges; April Changes; Birds Sing In Tune To Flowers Of May, And Sunny June Brings Longest Day; In Scorched July The Storm-clouds Fly, Lightning-torn; August Bears Corn, September Fruit; In Rough October Earth Must Disrobe Her; Stars Fall And Shoot In Keen November; And Night Is Long And Cold Is Strong In Bleak December.

Hurt No Living Thing: Ladybird, Nor Butterfly, Nor Moth With Dusty Wing.

I Have No Wit, No Words, No Tears; My Heart Within Me Like A Stone Is Numb'd Too Much For Hopes Or Fears; Look Right, Look Left, I Dwell Alone; I Lift Mine Eyes, But Dimm'd With Grief No Everlasting Hills I See; My Life Is In The Falling Leaf: O Jesus, Quicken Me.

Obedience Is The Fruit Of Faith.

Remember Me When I Am Gone Away, Gone Far Away Into The Silent Land.