The Parson Knows Enough Who Knows A

Fashion, Leader Of A Chatt'ring Train, Whom Man For His Own Hurt Permits To Reign Who Shifts And Changes All Things But His Shape, And Would Degrade Her Vot'ry To An Ape, The Fruitful Parent Of Abuse And Wrong, Holds A Usurp'd Dominion O'er His Tongue, There Sits And Prompts Him With His Own Disgrace, Prescribes The Theme, The Tone, And The Grimace, And When Accomplish'd In Her Wayward School, Calls Gentleman Whom She Has Made A Fool.

Grief Is Itself A Medicine.

Gardening Imparts An Organic Perspective On The Passage Of Time.

Perhaps Thou Gav'st Me, Though Unseen, A Kiss; Perhaps A Tear, If Souls Can Weep In Bliss.

But Oars Alone Can Ne'er Prevail To Reach The Distant Coast; The Breath Of Heaven Must Swell The Sail, Or All The Toil Is Lost.