They Will Come Back, Come Back Again,

There Are Gems Of Wondrous Brightness Ofttimes Lying At Our Feet, And We Pass Them, Walking Thoughtless, Down The Busy, Crowded Street. If We Knew, Our Pace Would Slacken, We Would Step More Oft With Care, Lest Our Careless Feet Be Treading To The Earth Some Jewel Rare.

God Could Not Be Everywhere, And Therefore He Made Mothers.

And That After This Is Accomplished, And The Brave New World Begins, When All Men Are Paid For Existing And No Man Must Pay For His Sins.

When Earth's Last Picture Is Painted And The Tubes Are Twisted And Dried, When The Oldest Colours Have Faded, And The Youngest Critic Has Died, We Shall Rest, And, Faith, We Shall Need It Lie Down For An Aeon Or Two, Till The Master Of All Good Workmen Shall Put Us To Work Anew!

The 'eathen In 'is Blindness Must End Where 'e Began. But The Backbone Of The Army Is The Non-commissioned Man!