Do Not Delay, Do Not Delay: The

How In The Turmoil Of Life Can Love Stand, Where There Is Not One Heart, And One Mouth And One Hand.

By The Shore Of Gitche Gumee, By The Shining Big-sea-water, At The Doorway Of His Wigwam, In The Pleasant Summer Morning, Hiawatha Stood And Waited.

And As She Looked Around, She Saw How Death The Consoler, Laying His Hand Upon Many A Heart, Had Healed It Forever.

You Would Attain To The Divine Perfection.

In Old Age Our Bodies Are Worn-out Instruments, On Which The Soul Tries In Vain To Play The Melodies Of Youth. But Because The Instrument Has Lost Its Strings, Or Is Out Of Tune, It Does Not Follow That The Musician Has Lost His Skill.