Dead He Is Not, But Departed, For

Much Must He Toil Who Serves The Immortal Gods.

I Love An Author The More For Having Been Himself A Lover Of Books.

I Heard The Bells On Christmas Day Their Old, Familiar Carols Play, And Wild And Sweet The Words Repeat Of Peace On Earth, Good-will To Men!

The Twilight That Surrounds The Border-land Of Old Romance.

There Is No Light In Earth Or Heaven But The Cold Light Of Stars; And The First Watch Of Night Is Given To The Red Planet Mars.