For As Fire Is Kindled By Fire,

The Trivial Round, The Common Task,would Furnish All We Ought To Ask.

For As Fire Is Kindled By Fire, So Is A Poet's Mind Kindled By Contact With A Brother Poet.

Sun Of My Soul, Thou Savior Dear, It Is Not Night If Thou Be Near. Oh, May No Earthborn Cloud Arise To Hide Thee From Thy Servant's Eyes.

When The Shore Is Won At Last, Who Will Count The Billow Past?

And Help Us, This And Every Day, To Live More Nearly As We Pray.