If Only The Best Birds Sang, The

Tact Is The Unsaid Part Of What You Think.

Subjection To Fear Is Weakness, Bondage, Feverish Unrest. To Be Afraid Is To Have No Soul That We Can Call Our Own; It Is To Be At The Beck And Call Of Alien Powers, To Be Chained And Driven And Tormented; It Is To Lose The Life Itself In The Anxious Care To Keep It.

Love Is Not Getting, But Giving; It Is Goodness, And Honor, And Peace And Pure Living.

A Peaceful Man Must Fight For That Which Peace Demands,— Freedom And Faith, Honor And Right, Defend With Heart And Hands.

Not To The Swift, The Race: Not To The Strong, The Fight: Not To The Righteous, Perfect Grace: Not To The Wise, The Light. But Often Faltering Feet Come Surest To The Goal; And They Who Walk In Darkness Meet The Sunrise Of The Soul.