What Men Call Accident Is God's Own

None But God Can Fill The Perfect Whole.

The Death-change Comes. Death Is Another Life. We Bow Our Heads At Going Out, We Think, And Enter Straight Another Golden Chamber Of The King's Larger Than This We Leave, And Lovelier. And Then In Shadowy Glimpses, Disconnect, The Story, Flower-like, Closes Thus Its Leaves. The Will Of God Is All In All. He Makes, Destroys, Remakes, For His Own Pleasure, All.

Lowliness Is The Base Of Every Virtue, And He Who Goes The Lowest Builds The Safest.

Respect Is What We Owe; Love, What We Give.

Not A Single Path Of Thought I Tread, But That It Leads To God.