And never since harvests were ripened, / Or laborers born, / Have men gathered figs of the thistle, / Or grapes of the thorn!

I think true love is never blind, / But rather brings an added light; / An inner vision quick to find / The beauties hid from common sight.

And never since harvests were ripened, / Or laborers born, / Have men gathered figs of the thistle, / Or grapes of the thorn!

Never is true love blind, but rather brings an added light.

Only yield when you must, never "give up the ship," but fight on to the last "with a stiff upper lip!

Death comes not to the living soul, nor age to the living heart.

One sweetly solemn thought, comes to me o'er and o'er; I am nearer home today, than I ever have been before.