Souls Are Gregarious In A Sense, But

How Many Desolate Creatures On The Earth Have Learnt The Simple Dues Of Fellowship And Social Comfort, In A Hospital.

Eyes Of Gentianellas Azure, Staring, Winking At The Skies.

And That Dismal Cry Rose Slowly And Sank Slowly Through The Air, Full Of Spirit's Melancholy And Eternity's Despair; And They Heard The Words It Said,- "pan Is Dead! Great Pan Is Dead! Pan, Pan Is Dead!"

God Only, Who Made Us Rich, Can Make Us Poor.

The Greeks Said Grandly In Their Tragic Phrase, 'let No One Be Called Happy Till His Death;' To Which I Would Add, 'let No One, Till His Death, Be Called Unhappy.'