It Is The Glory And Good Of

Every One Soon Or Late Comes Round By Rome.

Grow Old Along With Me! The Best Is Yet To Be, The Last Of Life, For Which The First Was Made. Our Times Are In His Hand Who Saith, 'a Whole I Planned, Youth Shows But Half; Trust God: See All, Nor Be Afraid!

For I Say This Is Death And The Sole Death,- When A Man's Loss Comes To Him From His Gain, Darkness From Light, From Knowledge Ignorance, And Lack Of Love From Love Made Manifest.

Strike When Thou Wilt, The Hour Of Rest, But Let My Last Days Be My Best.

I Judge People By What They Might Be, - Not Are, Nor Will Be.