I Have Lived To Thank God That

Yet There Are Some Resting-places, / Life's Untroubled Interludes; / Times When Neither Past Nor Future / On The Soul's Deep Calm Intrudes.

O Sleep! O Sleep! Do Not Forget Me. Sometimes Come And Sweep, Now I Have Nothing Left, Thy Healing Hand Over The Lids That Crave Thy Visits Bland, Thou Kind, Thou Comforting One. For I Have Seen His Face, As I Desired, And All My Story Is Done. O, I Am Tired.

I Have Lived Life Long Enough To Thank God That All My Prayers Have Not Been Answered

People Newly Emerged From Obscurity Generally Launch Out Into Indiscriminate Display.

And Old Affront Will Stir The Heart Through Years Of Rankling Pain.