I Am Athirst For God, The Living

It Is A Comely Fashion To Be Glad; Joy Is The Grace We Say To God.

When Our Thoughts Are Born, Though They Be Good And Humble, One Should Mind How They Are Reared, Or Some Will Go Astray And Shame Their Mother.

How Short Our Happy Days Appear! How Long The Sorrowful!

For Hearts Where Wakened Love Doth Lurk, How Fine, How Blest A Thing Is Work! For Work Does Good When Reasons Fail.

I Opened The Doors Of My Heart. And Behold, There Was Music Within And A Song, And Echoes Did Feed On The Sweetness, Repeating It Long. I Opened The Doors Of My Heart. And Behold, There Was Music That Played Itself Out In Aeolian Notes: Then Was Heard, As A Far-away Bell At Long Intervals Tolled.