The old order changes yielding place to new.

Like glimpses of forgotten dreams.

The Lord let the house of a brute to the soul of a man, And the man said, "Am I your debtor?" And the Lord--"Not yet: but make it as clean as you can, And then I will let you a better.

The greater man the greater courtesy.

So I find every pleasant spot In which we two were wont to meet, The field, the chamber, and the street, For all is dark where thou art not

Wearing all that weight Of learning lightly like a flower.

That tower of strength Which stood four-square to all the winds that blew.