There is room in the halls of pleasure for a large and lordly train, but one by one we must all file on through the narrow aisles of pain.

We laugh, we weep, we hope, we fear,And that's the burden of a year.

Love much. Earth has enough of bitter in it.

All the past is not worth one today.

Oh! not for the great departed, Who formed our country's laws, And not for the bravest-hearted, Who died in freedom's cause, And not for some living hero To whom all bend the knee, My muse would raise her song of praise - But for the man to be.

For this is wisdom- to love and live To take what fate or the Gods may give, To ask no question, to make no prayer, To kiss the lips and caress the hair, Speed passion's ebb as we greet its flow, To have and to hold, and, in time--let go.

Just a little every day That's the way Children learn to read and write Bit by bit and mite by mite.