This Life Is But The Passage Of

Does The Road Wind Up-hill All The Way? Yes, To The Very End.

I Have A Room Whereinto No One Enters Save I Myself Alone: There Sits A Blessed Memory On A Throne, There My Life Centres.

Fair As The Moon And Joyful As The Light; Tot Wan With Waiting, Not With Sorrow Dim; Not As She Is, But Was When Hope Shone Bright; Not As She Is, But As She Fills His Dreams.

Better By Far You Should Forget And Smile Than That You Should Remember And Be Sad.

Oh Roses For The Flush Of Youth, And Laurel For The Perfect Prime; But Pluck An Ivy Branch For Me Grown Old Before My Time.