The Woods Would Be Quiet If No

Hymns Of Today That May Be Sung By People Who Know The Thought Of The Age...are Not Afraid That Any Truth Of Science Will Destroy Christianity, Or Any Revolution Will Overthrow The Kingdom Of Heaven.

Come, My Friend, Forget Your Foes, And Leave Your Fears Behind, And Wander Forth To Try Your Luck, With Cheerful, Quiet Mind; For Be Your Fortune Great Or Small, You Take What God Will Give, And All The Day Your Heart Will Say, "'tis Luck Enough To Live.

We May Be Able To Tell How Many Stars Are In The Milky Way; We May Be Able To Count The Petals Of Every Flower, And Number The Bones Of Every Bird; But Unless Faith Leads Us To A Deeper Understanding, A More Reverent Comprehension Of The Significance Of The Universe, God Can Be No More Pleased With Our Knowledge Than The Painter Is Pleased With The Fly Which Touches His Picture With Its Feelers, And Sips The Varnish From The Surface, And Dies Without Dreaming Of The Meaning, Thought, Feeling, Embodied In The Colors.

Natural Beauty And Wonder Are Priceless Heirlooms Which God Has Bestowed Upon Our Nation. How Shall We Escape The Contempt Of The Coming Generation If We Suffer This Irreplaceable Heritage To Be Wasted?

In Warlike Pomp, With Banners Flowing, The Regiments Of Autumn Stood: I Saw Their Gold And Scarlet Glowing From Every Hillside, Every Wood.