In This Life He Laughs Longest Who

I Must Go Down To The Sea Again For The Call Of The Running Tide It's A Wild Call And A Clear Call That May Not Be Denied.

Oh Some Are Fond Of Spanish Wine, And Some Are Fond Of French.

What Am I, Life? A Thing Of Watery Salt Held In Cohesion By Unresting Cells, Which Work They Know Not Why, Which Never Halt, Myself Unwitting Where Their Master Dwells?

O Lovely Lily Clean, O Lily Springing Green, O Lily Bursting White, Dear Lily Of Delight, Spring In My Heart Agen That I May Flower To Men.

The Lord Who Gave Us Earth And Heaven Takes That As Thanks For All He's Given. The Book He Lent Is Given Back All Blotted Red And Smutted Black.