Life Is An Empty Dream.

Each Life Unfulfilled, You See; It Hangs Still, Patchy And Scrappy: We Have Not Sighed Deep, Laughed Free, Starved, Feasted, Despaired,—been Happy.

Let's Contend No More, Love, Strive Nor Weep: All Be As Before Love, - Only Sleep.

How Good Is Life, The Mere Living!

Sing, Riding 's A Joy! For Me I Ride.

What's Come To Perfection Perishes. Things Learned On Earth We Shall Practice In Heaven; Works Done Least Rapidly Art Most Cherishes.