The Voice That Breathed O'er Eden, That

Sprinkled Along The Waste Of Years Full Many A Soft Green Isle Appears: Pause Where We May Upon The Desert Road, Some Shelter Is In Sight, Some Sacred Safe Abode.

For As Fire Is Kindled By Fire, So Is A Poet's Mind Kindled By Contact With A Brother Poet.

When You Find Yourself Overpowered, As It Were, By Melancholy, The Best Way Is To Go Out And Do Something.

Time's Waters Will Not Ebb Nor Stay.

Give Us Grace To Listen Well.