Heaven To Me's A Fair Blue Stretch

But He Has Gone, A Nation's Memory And Veneration, Among The Radiant, Ever Venturing On, Somewhere, With Morning, As Such Spirits Will.

When Life Knocks At The Door No One Can Wait, When Death Makes His Arrest We Have To Go.

It Ought To Have Gangsters, And Aeroplanes And A Lot Of Automatic Pistols.

Men In A Ship Are Always Looking Up, And Men Ashore Are Usually Looking Down.

Lord, Give To Me Who Are Old And Rougher The Things That Little Children Suffer, And Let Keep Bright And Undefiled The Young Years Of The Little Child.