If All Were Rich, Gold Would Be

Grief Hallows Hearts, Even While It Ages Heads.

I Cannot Be Content With Less Than Heaven.

Dear Lord, Our God And Saviour! For Thy Gifts The World Were Poor In Thanks, Though Every Soul Were To Do Nought But Breathe Them, Every Blade Of Grass, And Every Atomie Of Earth To Utter It Like Dew.

I Am Tired Of Looking On What Is, One Might As Well See Beauty Never More, As Look Upon It With An Empty Eye. I Would This World Were Over. I Am Tired.

If All Were Rich, Gold Would Be Penniless.