I Felt It Shelter To Speak To

In This Short Life That Only Lasts Ah Hour How Much-how Little-is Within Our Power.

Some Keep The Sabbath Going To Church, I Keep It Staying At Home, With A Bobolink For A Chorister, And An Orchard For A Dome.

Forever Is Made Up Of Nows.

Not One Of All The Purple Host Who Took The Flag To-day Can Tell The Definition So Clear Of Victory, As He, Defeated, Dying, On Whose Forbidden Ear The Distant Strains Of Triumph Break Agonized And Clear.

I Do Not Feel I Could Give Up All For Christ, Were I Called To Die.