Ah! The Clock Is Always Slow; It

Just Draw On Your Grit; It's So Easy To Quit - It's The Keeping Your Chin Up That's Hard.

Write Verse, Not Poetry. The Public Wants Verse. If You Have A Talent For Poetry, Then Don't By Any Means Mother It, But Try Your Hand At Verse.

The Only Society I Like Is Rough And Tough, And The Tougher The Better. There's Where You Get Down To Bedrock And Meet Human People.

Some Praise The Lord For Light, The Living Spark; I Thank God For The Night The Healing Dark.

And Each Forgets, As He Strips And Runs With A Brilliant, Fitful Pace, It's The Steady, Quiet, Plodding Ones Who Win In The Lifelong Race. And Each Forgets That His Youth Has Fled, Forgets That His Prime Is Past, Till He Stands One Day, With A Hope That's Dead, In The Glare Of The Truth At Last.