The Greatest Grace Of A Gift, Perhaps,

What Shall I Say To You? What Can I Say Better Than Silence Is?

That Which The Fountain Sends Forth Returns Again To The Fountain.

Saint Augustine! Well Hast Thou Said, That Of Our Vices We Can Frame A Ladder, If We Will But Tread Beneath Our Feet Each Deed Of Shame.

Feeling Is Deep And Still; And The Word That Floats On The Surface Is As The Tossing Buoy, That Betrays Where The Anchor Is Hidden.

The Market-place, The Eager Love Of Gain, Whose Aim Is Vanity, And Whose End Is Pain!