No One Can Rightly Call His Garden

Faded Smiles Oft Linger In The Face, While Grief's First Flakes Fall Silent On The Heart!

So, Timely You Came, And Well You Chose, You Came When Most Needed, My Winter Rose. From The Snow I Pluck You, And Fondly Press Your Leaves 'twixt The Leaves Of My Leaflessness.

My Virgin Sense Of Sound Was Steeped In The Music Of Young Streams; And Roses Through The Casement Peeped, And Scented All My Dreams.

Is Life Worth Living? Yes, So Long As There Is Wrong To Right. So Long As Faith With Freedom Reigns And Loyal Hope Survives, And Gracious Charity Remains To Leaven Lowly Lives; While There Is Only One Untrodden Tract For Intellect Or Will, And Men Are Free To Think And Act, Life Is Worth Living Still.

Is Life Worth Living? Yes, So Long As Spring Revives The Year, And Hails Us With The Cuckoo's Song, To Show That She Is Here.