Like Water Spilt Upon The Ground--alas, Our

The Storm Is Ended! The Impartial Sunlaughs Down Upon The Battle Lost And Won,and Crowns The Triumph Of The Cloudy Hostin Rolling Lines Retreating To The Coast.

Love Is The Heart S Immortal Thirst To Be Completely Known And All Forgiven.

As Long As Habit And Routine Dictate The Pattern Of Living, New Dimensions Of The Soul Will Not Emerge.

Count Not The Cost Of Honour To The Dead!the Tribute That A Mighty Nation Paysto Those Who Loved Her Well In Former Daysmeans More Than Gratitude For Glories Fled;for Every Noble Man That She Hath Bred,lives In The Bronze And Marble That We Raise,immortalised By Art's Immortal Praise,to Lead Our Sons As He Our Fathers Led.

Use What Talents You Possess; The Woods Would Be Very Silent If No Birds Sang There Except Those That Sang Best.