How Shall The Soul Of A Man

Why, A Moral Truth Is A Hollow Tooth Which Must Be Propped With Gold.

O Maternal Earth Which Rocks The Fallen Leaf To Sleep!

Those Who First Oppose A Good Work, Seize It And Make It Their Own, When The Cornerstone Is Laid And Memorial Tablets Are Erected.

I Have Known The Silence Of The Stars And Of The Sea. And The Silence Of The City When It Pauses, And The Silence Of A Man And A Maid, And The Silence For Which Music Alone Finds The Word.

And I Never Started To Plow In My Life That Some One Did Not Stop In The Road And Take Me Away To A Dance Or Picnic. I Ended Up With Forty Acres; I Ended Up With A Broken Fiddle— And A Broken Laugh, And A Thousand Memories, And Not A Single Regret.