Gone Are The Birds That Were Our

Taste The Joy That Springs From Labor.

Sorrow And Silence Are Strong, And Patient Endurance Is Godlike.

Silently, One By One, In The Infinite Meadows Of Heaven, Blossomed The Lovely Stars, The Forget-me-nots Of The Angels.

Oh, How Short Are The Days! How Soon The Night Overtakes Us!

The Morrow Was A Bright September Morn; The Earth Was Beautiful As If Newborn; There Was Nameless Splendor Everywhere, That Wild Exhilaration In The Air, Which Makes The Passers In The City Street Congratulate Each Other As They Meet.