O Fleeting Joys Of Paradise, Dear Bought

The Starry Cope Of Heaven.

A Crown Golden In Show, Is But A Wreath Of Thorns, Bring Dangers, Troubles, Cares, And Sleepless Nights To Him Who Wears The Regal Diadem

Thus I Set My Printless Feet O'er The Cowslip's Velvet Head, That Bends Not As I Tread.

Goodness Thinks No Ill Where No Ill Seems.

There Is Nothing That Making Men Rich And Strong But That Which They Carry Inside Of Them. True Wealth Is Of The Heart, Not Of The Hand.