What moistens the lip and what brightens the eye? What calls back the past like the rich pumpkin pie?

Flowers spring to blossom where she walks The careful ways of duty; Our hard, stiff lines of life with her Are flowing curves of beauty.

The hope of all who suffer, The dread of all who wrong.

A charmed life old goodness hath; the tares may perish, but the grain is not for death.

So fallen! so lost! the light withdrawn Which once he wore; The glory from his gray hairs gone For evermore!

Bathsheba! to whom none ever said scat- No worthier cat Ever sat on a mat, Or caught a rat. Requiescat!

God is good and God is light In this faith I rest secure, Evil can but serve the right, Over all shall love endure.