Is there not an art, a music, and a stream of words that shalt be life >>
That though the radiance which was once so bright be now forever taken >>
Small service is true service, while it lasts. >>
Are there memories left that are safe from the clutches of phony anniv >>
Let us love nobly, and live, and add again years and years unto years, >>
The thought of our past years in me doth breed perpetual benedictions. >>
The thought of our past years in me doth breed perpetual benedictions.