That Great Brow And The Spirit-small Hand

One Who Never Turned His Back But Marched Breast Forward, Never Doubted Clouds Would Break, Never Dreamed, Though Right Were Worsted, Wrong Would Triumph, Held We Fall To Rise, Are Baffled To Fight Better, Sleep To Wake.

But How Carve Way I' The Life That Lies Before, If Bent On Groaning Ever For The Past?

Man Seeks His Own Good At The Whole World's Cost.

He Guides Me And The Bird. In His Good Time!

God Is The Perfect Poet, Who In His Person Acts His Own Creations.