All Love Is Lost But Upon God

Gem Of All Joy, Jasper Of Jocundity.

Among My Friends Love Is A Payment. It Is An Old Debt For A Borrowing Foolishly Spent.

Noble Men In The Quiet Of Morning Hear Indians Singing The Continent's Violent Requiem.

To God Be Humble, To Thy Friend Be Kind, And With Thy Neighbors Gladly Lend And Borrow; His Chance Tonight, It Maybe Thine Tomorrow.

Our Pleasance Here Is All Vain Glory, This False Warld Is But Transitory.