O Maternal Earth Which Rocks The Fallen

And I Never Started To Plow In My Life That Some One Did Not Stop In The Road And Take Me Away To A Dance Or Picnic. I Ended Up With Forty Acres; I Ended Up With A Broken Fiddle— And A Broken Laugh, And A Thousand Memories, And Not A Single Regret.

O Maternal Earth Which Rocks The Fallen Leaf To Sleep!

What Is This I Hear Of Sorrow And Weariness, Anger, Discontent And Drooping Hopes? Degenerate Sons And Daughters, Life Is Too Strong For You— It Takes Life To Love Life.

He Stripped Off The Armor Of Institutional Friendships To Dedictate His Soul To The Terrible Deities Of Truth And Beauty.

. . . The Weal Of The Race, And The Cause Of Humanity, Here And Now, Are Enough To Give Life Meaning And Death As Well.