My Heart Is Like A Singing Bird

For There Is No Friend Like A Sister In Calm Or Stormy Weather.

The Bourne Underneath The Growing Grass, Underneath The Living Flowers, Deeper Than The Sound Of Showers: There We Shall Not Count The Hours By The Shadows As They Pass. Youth And Health Will Be But Vain, Beauty Reckoned Of No Worth: There A Very Little Girth Can Hold Round What Once The Earth Seemed Too Narrow To Contain.

Where Innocent Bright-eyes Daisies Are With Blades Of Grass Between, Each Daisy Stands Up Like A Star Out Of A Sky Of Green.

Let Bygones Be Bygones.

Obedience Is The Fruit Of Faith; Patience Is The Early Blossom On The Tree Of Faith.