The Deeds We Do, The Words We

Why Should We Faint And Fear To Live Alone,since All Alone, So Heaven Has Willed, We Die?nor Even The Tenderest Heart, And Next Our Own,knows Half The Reasons Why We Smile And Sigh.

The Trivial Round, The Common Task,would Furnish All We Ought To Ask.

For As Fire Is Kindled By Fire, So Is A Poet's Mind Kindled By Contact With A Brother Poet.

Peace Is The First Thing The Angels Sang.

Give Us Grace To Listen Well.