Whatever is a cruel wrong, Whatever is unjust, The honest years that speed along Will trample in the dust.

While forced to dwell apart from thy dear face, Love, robed like sorrow, led me by the hand And taught my doubting heart to understand That which has puzzled all the human race.

It is easy to tell the toiler How best he can carry his pack But no one can rate a burden's weight Until it has been on his back

Yes, I have dreams. I ofttimes dream of Love As radiant and brilliant as a star. As changeless, too, as that fixed light afar Which glorifies vast worlds of space above.

Talk not of the river or lake To those who have looked on the sea.

The art of being kind is all the world needs.

Whatever is... is best.