Obedience Is The Fruit Of Faith.

Hurt No Living Thing: Ladybird, Nor Butterfly, Nor Moth With Dusty Wing.

Yet Come To Me In Dreams, That I May Live My Very Life Again Though Cold In Death; Come Back To Me In Dreams, That I May Give Pulse For Pulse, Breath For Breath: Speak Low, Lean Low, As Long Ago, My Love, How Long Ago

All Things That Pass Are Wisdom's Looking-glass.

Oh That It Were With Me As With The Flower; Blooming On Its Own Tree For Butterfly And Bee Its Summer Morns: That I Might Bloom Mine Hour A Rose In Spite Of Thorns. Oh That My Work Were Done As Birds' That Soar Rejoicing In The Sun: That When My Time Is Run And Daylight Too, I So Might Rest Once More Cool With Refreshing Dew.

In The Bleak Midwinter Frosty Wind Made Moan, Earth Stood Hard As Iron, Water Like A Stone; Snow Had Fallen, Snow On Snow, Snow On Snow, In The Bleak Midwinter, Long Ago.