There Are Those Who Give With Joy,

If You Cannot But Weep When Your Soul Summons You To Prayer, She Should Spur You Again And Yet Again, Though Weeping, Until You Shall Come Laughing

My Friends: Music Is The Language Of Spirits. Its Melody Is Like The Frolicsome Breeze That Makes The Strings Quiver With Love. When The Gentle Fingers Of Music Knock At The Door Of Our Feelings, They Awaken Memories That Have Long Lain Hidden In The Depths Of The Past. The Sad Strains Of Music Bring Us Mournful Recollections; And Her Quiet Strains Bring Us Joyful Memories. The Sound Of Strings Makes Us Weep At The Departure Of A Dear One, Or Makes Us Smile At The Peace God Has Bestowed Upon Us.

Our God, Who Art Our Winged Self, It Is Thy Will In Us That Willeth. It Is Thy Desire In Us That Desireth. It Is Thy Urge In Us That Would Turn Our Nights, Which Are Thine, Into Days Which Are Thine Also. We Cannot Ask Thee For Aught, For Thou Knowest Our Needs Before They Are Born In Us: Thou Art Our Need; And In Giving Us More Of Thyself Thou Givest Us All.

Some Who Are Too Scrupulous To Steal Your Possessions Nevertheless See No Wrong In Tampering With Your Thoughts.

Hallow The Body As A Temple To Comeliness And Sanctify The Heart As A Sacrifice To Love; Love Recompenses The Adorers.