When To The Cross I Turn My

Nature's Prime Favourites Were The Pelicans; High-fed, Long-lived, And Sociable And Free.

Blue Thou Art, Intensely Blue; Flower, Whence Came Thy Dazzling Hue?

When The Good Man Yields His Breath (for The Good Man Never Dies).

The Dead Are Like The Stars By Day; Withdrawn From Mortal Eye, But Not Extinct, They Hold Their Way In Glory Through The Sky.

Prayer Is The Soul's Sincere Desire, Uttered Or Unexpressed, The Motion Of A Hidden Fire That Trembles In The Breast. Prayer Is The Burden Of A Sigh, The Falling Of A Tear, The Upward Glancing Of An Eye When None But God Is Near.