All The Live Murmur Of A Summer's

No, No! The Energy Of Life May Be Kept On After The Grave, But Not Begun; And He Who Flagg'd Not In The Earthly Strife, From Strength To Strength Advancing--only He His Soul Well-knit, And All His Battles Won, Mounts, And That Hardly, To Eternal Life.

Tis Not To See The World As From A Height, With Rapt Prophetic Eyes, And Heart Profoundly Stirred; And Weep, And Feel The Fullness Of The Past, The Years That Are Not More.

A Wanderer Is Man From His Birth. He Was Born In A Ship On The Breast Of The River Of Time.

But There Remains The Question: What Righteousness Really Is. The Method And Secret And Sweet Reasonableness Of Jesus.

With Aching Hands And Bleeding Feet We Dig And Heap, Lay Stone On Stone; We Bear The Burden And The Heat Of The Long Day, And Wish 'twere Done. Not Till The Hours Of Light Return All We Have Built Do We Discern.