Love Is Not Getting, But Giving. Not

A Tear That Trembles For A Little While Upon The Trembling Eyelid, Till The World Wavers Within Its Circle Like A Dream, Holds More Of Meaning In Its Narrow Orb Than All The Distant Landscape That It Blurs.

These Are The Things I Prize And Hold Of Dearest Worth: Light Of The Sapphire Skies, Peace Of The Silent Hills, Shelter Of The Forests, Comfort Of The Grass, Music Of Birds, Murmur Of Little Rills, Shadows Of Cloud That Swiftly Pass, And, After Showers, The Smell Of Flowers And Of The Good Brown Earth,- And Best Of All, Along The Way, Friendship And Mirth.

Love Is Not Getting, But Giving; It Is Goodness, And Honor, And Peace And Pure Living.

It Is With Rivers As It Is With People: The Greatest Are Not Always The Most Agreeable Nor The Best To Live With.

The Lintel Low Enough To Keep Out Pomp And Pride; The Threshold High Enough To Turn Deceit Aside; The Doorband Strong Enough From Robbers To Defend; This Door Will Open At A Touch To Welcome Every Friend.