All The Great Things Of Life Are

On The Long Dusty Ribbon Of The Long City Street, The Pageant Of Life Is Passing Me On Multitudinous Feet, With A Word Here Of The Hills, And A Song There Of The Sea And-the Great Movement Changes-the Pageant Passes Me.

Lord, Give To Me Who Are Old And Rougher The Things That Little Children Suffer, And Let Keep Bright And Undefiled The Young Years Of The Little Child.

His Face Was Filled With Broken Commandments.

The Lord Who Gave Us Earth And Heaven Takes That As Thanks For All He's Given. The Book He Lent Is Given Back All Blotted Red And Smutted Black.

I Hold That When A Person Dies / His Soul Returns Again To Earth; / Arrayed In Some New Flesh Disguise / Another Mother Gives Him Birth / With Sturdier Limbs And Brighter Brain.