Our Hearts Are Lamps For Ever Burning.

Two Ways The Rivers Leap Down To Different Seas, And As They Roll Grow Deep And Still, And Their Majestic Presence Becomes A Benefaction To The Towns They Visit, Wandering Silently Among Them, Like Patriarchs Old Among Their Shining Tents.

The Day Is Cold, And Dark, And Dreary; It Rains, And The Wind In Never Weary; The Vine Still Clings To The Mouldering Wall, But At Every Gust The Dead Leaves Fall, And The Day Is Dark And Dreary.

Look Not Mournfully Into The Past. It Comes Not Back Again.

It Is Difficult To Know At What Moment Love Begins; It Is Less Difficult To Know That It Has Begun.

It Has Done Me Good To Be Somewhat Parched By The Heat And Drenched By The Rain Of Life.