Silence And Solitude, The Soul's Best Friends.

And The Wind Plays On Those Great Sonorous Harps, The Shrouds And Masts Of Ships.

Your Silent Tents Of Green We Deck With Fragrant Flowers; Yours Has The Suffering Been, The Memory Shall Be Ours.

The Thoughts Of Youth Are Long, Long Thoughts

Think Of Your Woods And Orchards Without Birds! Of Empty Nests That Cling To Boughs And Beams As In An Idiot's Brain Remembered Words Hang Empty 'mid The Cobwebs Of His Dreams!

Defeat May Be Victory In Disguise.