When The Shore Is Won At Last,

New Every Morning Is The Love Our Waking And Uprising Prove, Through Sleep And Darkness Safely Brought, Restored To Life And Power And Thought.

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

Sprinkled Along The Waste Of Years Full Many A Soft Green Isle Appears: Pause Where We May Upon The Desert Road, Some Shelter Is In Sight, Some Sacred Safe Abode.

Why Should We Faint And Fear To Live Alone,since All Alone, So Heaven Has Willed, We Die?nor Even The Tenderest Heart, And Next Our Own,knows Half The Reasons Why We Smile And Sigh.

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