If One By One We Counted People

I Go To School The Youth To Learn The Future.

A Poem Begins In Delight And Ends In Wisdom.

But What Would Interest You About The Brook, It's Always Cold In Summer, Warm In Winter.

Our Life Runs Down In Sending Up The Clock. The Brook Runs Down In Sending Up Our Life. The Sun Runs Down In Sending Up The Brook. And There Is Something Sending Up The Sun.

The Nearest Friends Can Go With Anyone To Death, Comes So Far Short They Might As Well Not Try To Go At All.