When You Are Born, Your Work Is

And Let Your Best Be For Your Friend. If He Must Know The Ebb Of Your Tide, Let Him Know Its Flood Also. For What Is Your Friend That Your Should Seek With Him Hours To Kill? Seek With Him Always Hours To Live. For It Is His To Fill Your Need, But Not Your Emptiness. And In The Sweetness Of Friendship, Let There Be Laughter, And The Sharing Of Pleasures. For In The Dew Of Little Things The Heart Finds Its Morning And Is Refreshed.

And Forget Not That The Earth Delights To Feel Your Bare Feet And The Winds Long To Play With Your Hair.

Where Are You Now, My Beloved? Do You Hear My Weeping From Beyond The Ocean? Do You Understand My Need? Do You Know The Greatness Of My Patience?

My Friends: Music Is The Language Of Spirits. Its Melody Is Like The Frolicsome Breeze That Makes The Strings Quiver With Love. When The Gentle Fingers Of Music Knock At The Door Of Our Feelings, They Awaken Memories That Have Long Lain Hidden In The Depths Of The Past. The Sad Strains Of Music Bring Us Mournful Recollections; And Her Quiet Strains Bring Us Joyful Memories. The Sound Of Strings Makes Us Weep At The Departure Of A Dear One, Or Makes Us Smile At The Peace God Has Bestowed Upon Us.

Thinking Is Always The Stumbling Stone To Poetry.