The Happy Man Is He Who Knows

I Like To Think That When I Fall, A Rain-drop In Death's Shoreless Sea, This Shelf Of Books Along The Wall, Beside My Bed, Will Mourn For Me.

Our Breath Is Brief, And Being So Let's Make Our Heaven Here Below, And Lavish Kindness As We Go.

Some Praise The Lord For Light, The Living Spark; I Thank God For The Night The Healing Dark.

Ah! The Clock Is Always Slow; It Is Later Than You Think.

This Is The Law Of The Yukon, That Only The Strong Shall Thrive; That Surely The Weak Shall Perish, And Only The Fit Survive.