Is Not Thy Home Among The Flowers?

I Grieve For Life's Bright Promise, Just Shown And Then Withdrawn.

The Stormy March Has Come At Last, With Winds And Clouds And Changing Skies; I Hear The Rushing Of The Blast That Through The Snowy Valley Flies.

Adversity Is The Nurse Of Greatness Which Roughly Rocks Her Patients Back To Health.

Truth, Crushed To Earth, Shall Rise Again.

Tender Pauses Speak The Overflow Of Gladness, When Words Are All Too Weak.