God Only, Who Made Us Rich, Can

For Frequent Tears Have Run; The Colours From My Life.

The Devil's Most Devilish When Respectable.

Pan Is Dead! Great Pan Is Dead! Pan, Pan Is Dead!

The Sweetest Lives Are Those To Duty Wed, Whose Deeds, Both Great And Small Are Close-knot Strands Of An Unbroken Thread There Love Ennobles All. The World May Sound No Trumpets, Ring No Bells The Book Of Life The Shining Record Tells. Thy Love Shall Chant Its Own Beatitudes After Its Own Life-workings. A Child's Kiss Set On Thy Sighing Lips Shall Make Thee Glad; A Poor Man Served By Thee Shall Make Thee Rich; A Sick Man Helped By Thee Shall Make Thee Strong; Thou Shalt Serve Thyself By Every Sense, Of Service Which Thou Renderest.

Beloved, Let Us Live So Well Our Work Shall Still Be Better For Our Love, And Still Our Love Be Sweeter For Our Work.