For None Can Express Thee, Though All

Art Is Much, But Love Is More.

I Saw, In Gradual Vision Through My Tears, The Sweet, Sad Years, The Melancholy Years, Those Of My Own Life, Who By Turns Had Flung A Shadow Across Me.

Oh, The Little Birds Sang East, And The Little Birds Sang West.

The Exchange Of Sympathy For Gratitude Is The Most Princely Thing!

Gaze Up At The Stars Knowing That I See The Same Sky And Wish The Same Sweet Dreams.