May The Good God Pardon All Good

World's Use Is Cold, World's Love Is Vain, World's Cruelty Is Bitter Bane; But Is Not The Fruit Of Pain.

Never Say No When The World Says Aye.

Sleep On, Baby, On The Floor, Tired Of All The Playing, Sleep With Smile The Sweeter For That You Dropped Away In! On Your Curls' Full Roundness Stand Golden Lights Serenely-- One Cheek, Pushed Out By The Hand, Folds The Dimple Inly.

And Is It Not The Chief Good Of Money, The Being Free From The Need Of Thinking Of It?

When God Helps All The Workers For His World, The Singers Shall Have Help Of Him, Not Last.