The one thing finished in this hasty world.

Children are God's Apostles, sent forth, day by day, to preach of love, and hope, and peace.

Against the windows the storm comes dashing, Through tattered foliage the hail tears crashing, The blue lightning flashes, The rapid hail clashes... The thunder is rumbling And crashing and crumbling.

Heaven is neither here nor there to me. Everywhere and nowhere. Just not in between, But I believe in Heaven.

A poet must need be before his own age, to be even with posterity

As life runs on, the road grows strange with faces new - and near the end. The milestones into headstones change, Neath every one a friend.

Now the heart is so full that a drop overfills it, We are happy now because God so wills it; No matter how barren the past may have been, 'T is enough for us now that the leaves are green; We sit in the warm shade and feel right well How the sap creeps up and the blossoms swell... The breeze comes whispering in our ear, That dandelions are blossoming near... Every thing is upward striving; 'T is as easy now for the heart to be true As for grass to be green or skies to be blue, - 'T is the natural way of living.