God Is The Perfect Poet, Who In

If You Can Sit At Set Of Sun And Count The Deeds That You Have Done And Counting Find Oneself-denying Act, One Word That Eased The Heart Of Him That Heard. One Glance Most Kind, Which Fell Like Sunshine Where He Went, Then You May Count That Day Well Spent.

What's A Man's Age? He Must Hurry More, That's All; Cram In A Day, What His Youth Took A Year To Hold.

Where The Apple Reddens Never Pry - Lest We Lose Our Edens, Eve And I.

Would You Have Your Songs Endure? Build On The Human Heart.

Make Us Happy And You Make Us Good.