Self Is The Only Prison That Can

Oh, It's Home Again And Home Again, America For Me! I Want A Ship That's Westward Bound To Plough The Rolling Sea To The Blessed Land Of Room Enough Beyond The Ocean Bars, Where The Air Is Full Of Sunlight And The Flag Is Full Of Stars.

This Is The Gospel Of Labour, Ring It, Ye Bells Of The Kirk! The Lord Of Love Came Down From Above, To Live With The Men Who Work. This Is The Rose That He Planted, Here In The Thorn-curst Soil: Heaven Is Blest With Perfect Rest, But The Blessing Of Earth Is Toil.

Christ Never Asks Us To Give Up Merely For The Sake Of Giving Up, But Always In Order To Win Something Better.

These Are The Things I Prize And Hold Of Dearest Worth: Light Of The Sapphire Skies, Peace Of The Silent Hills, Shelter Of The Forests, Comfort Of The Grass, Music Of Birds, Murmur Of Little Rills, Shadows Of Cloud That Swiftly Pass, And, After Showers, The Smell Of Flowers And Of The Good Brown Earth,- And Best Of All, Along The Way, Friendship And Mirth.

Favorite People, Favorite Places, Favorite Memories Of The Past ... These Are The Joys Of A Lifetime Those Are The Things That Last