Because The Birthday Of My Life Is

Come To Me In The Silence Of The Night, Come To Me In The Speaking Silence Of A Dream. Come With Soft Rounded Cheeks And Eyes As Bright As Sunlight On A Stream. Come Back In Tears, O Memory, Hope, Love Of Finished Years.

Hope Dead Lives Nevermore, No, Not In Heaven.

Where Innocent Bright-eyes Daisies Are With Blades Of Grass Between, Each Daisy Stands Up Like A Star Out Of A Sky Of Green.

Can Anything Be Sadder Than Work Left Unfinished? Yes, Work Never Begun.

The Violets Whisper From The Shade Which Their Own Leaves Have Made: Men Scent Our Fragrance On The Air, Yet Take No Heed Of Humble Lessons We Would Read.