... Love Is Heaven And Claims Its

On The Day Long After Childhood When I Suddenly Heard Of His Death, The Sky Grew Dark Above My Head. I Was Walking On A Southern Highway, And A Friend Driving In A Pony Carriage Passed Me, Stopped And Said, "have You Heard That Charles Dickens Is Dead?" It Was As If I Had Been Robbed Of One Of My Dearest Friends.

In Very Truth It Is The Unattained Which Gives Zest To The Commonplace And Brims The Cup Of Our Daily Life With Keenest Joy.

Out Of The Chill And The Shadow, Into The Thrill And The Shine. Out Of The Dearth And The Famine, Into The Fulness Divine.

Never Yet Was A Springtime, When The Buds Forgot To Bloom.

Self-complacen Cy Is Fatal To Progress.