When The Shore Is Won At Last,

Blest Are The Pure In Heart, For They Shall See Our God. The Secret Of The Lord Is Theirs; Their Soul Is Christ's Abode.

And Help Us, This And Every Day, To Live More Nearly As We Pray.

For As Fire Is Kindled By Fire, So Is A Poet's Mind Kindled By Contact With A Brother Poet.

Once You Make Up Your Mind Never To Stand Waiting And Hesitating When Your Conscience Tells You What You Ought To Do, And You Have Got The Key To Every Blessing That A Sinner Can Reasonably Hope For.

Thou Art The Sun Of Other Days. They Shine By Giving Back The Rays.