Innocence Dwells With Wisdom, But Never With

For Everything Exists And Not One Sigh Nor Smile Nor Tear, One Hair Nor Particle Of Dust, Not One Can Pass Away.

O Earth, O Earth, Return! Arise From Out The Dewy Grass; Night Is Worn; And The Morn Rises From The Slumbrous Mass.

What Is The Price Of Experience? Do Men Buy It For A Song? Or Wisdom For A Dance In The Street? No, It Is Bought With The Price Of All The Man Hath, His House, His Wife, His Children.

And I Made A Rural Pen, And I Stained The Water Clear, And I Wrote My Happy Songs Every Child May Joy To Hear.

Then Cherish Pity, Lest You Drive An Angel From Your Door.