A Bird In The Hand Is A

For The Glory Born Of Goodness Never Dies, And Its Flag Is Not Half-masted In The Skies.

If, Of All Words Of Tongue And Pen, The Saddest Are, It Might Have Been,' More Sad Are These We Daily See: 'it Is, But Hadn't Ought To Be!'

Your Voices Break And Falter In The Darkness, Break, Falter, And Are Still.

The Dominant Expression Of A Child Is Gravity.

Never A Tear Bedims The Eye That Time And Patience Will Not Dry.