There Is A Power Whose Care Teaches

Stand Here By My Side And Turn, I Pray, On The Lake Below Thy Gentle Eyes; The Clouds Hang Over It, Heavy And Gray, And Dark And Silent The Water Lies; And Out Of That Frozen Mist The Snow In Wavering Flakes Begins To Flow; Flake After Flake, They Sink In The Dark And Silent Lake.

All Things That Are On Earth Shall Wholly Pass Away, Except The Love Of God, Which Shall Live And Last For Aye.

The Windflower And The Violet, They Perished Long Ago, And The Brier-rose And The Orchis Died Amid The Summer Glow; But On The Hills The Golden-rod, And The Aster In The Wood, And The Yellow Sunflower By The Brook, In Autumn Beauty Stood, Till Fell The First From The Clear Cold Heaven, As Falls The Plague On Men, And The Brightness Of Their Smile Was Gone, From Upland Glade And Glen.

A Herd Of Prairie-wolves Will Enter A Field Of Melons And Quarrel About The Division Of The Spoils As Fiercely And Noisily As So Many Politicians.

Where Are The Flowers, The Fair Young Flowers, That Lately Sprang And Stood In Brighter Light And Softer Airs, A Beauteous Sisterhood?