Love Is The World's River Of Life

The Prouder A Man Is, The More He Thinks He Deserves, And The More He Thinks He Deserves, The Less He Really Does Deserve.

He Will See Most Without Who Has The Best Eyes Within; And He Who Only Sees With His Bodily Organs Sees But The Surface.

Memory Can Glean, But Can Never Renew. It Brings Us Joys Faint As Is The Perfume Of The Flowers, Faded And Dried, Of The Summer That Is Gone.

Sorrows Are Gardeners: They Plant Flowers Along Waste Places, And Teach Vines To Cover Barren Heaps.

May We Feel After Thee; Still Calling Out In The Darkness, As Children Waking In The Night Call "father," So May We Call Out For God; And, At Times, Even If We Do Not Hear Thy Voice, May There Be The Form Of A Hand Resting Upon Us, And That Shall Be Enough; For We Shall Take Hold Of It, Though It Be In The Dark, And It Shall Guide Us To The Growing Light; For The Day Shall Come, And The Release And Triumph.