Time Marks Us While We Are Marking

Wake The Happy Words.

Deep In Their Roots, All Flowers Keep The Light.

Reason? That Dreary Shed, That Hutch For Grubby Schoolboys.

I Came Where The River Ran Over Stones; My Ears Knew An Early Joy. And All The Waters Of All The Streams Sang In My Veins That Summer Day.

I Bleed My Bones, Their Marrow To Bestowupon That God Who Knows What I Would Know.