In The Morning Of The World, When

God Is The Perfect Poet.

How Sad And Bad And Mad It Was - But Then, How It Was Sweet

I Know What I Want And What I Might Gain, And Yet, How Profitless To Know.

Fair Or Foul The Lot Apportioned Life On Earth, We Bear Alike.

Grow Old Along With Me! The Best Is Yet To Be, The Last Of Life, For Which The First Was Made. Our Times Are In His Hand Who Saith, 'a Whole I Planned, Youth Shows But Half; Trust God: See All, Nor Be Afraid!