To God Be Humble, To Thy Friend

Noble Men In The Quiet Of Morning Hear Indians Singing The Continent's Violent Requiem.

Neither Our Vices Nor Our Virtues Further The Poem.

To God Be Humble, To Thy Friend Be Kind, And With Thy Neighbors Gladly Lend And Borrow; His Chance Tonight, It Maybe Thine Tomorrow.

I That In Heill Wes And Gladnes Am Trublit Now With Gret Seiknes And Feblit With Infermite: Timor Mortis Conturbat Me.* * Fear Of Death Troubles Me.

Our Pleasance Here Is All Vain Glory, This False Warld Is But Transitory.