Yet Nightly Pitch My Moving Tent, A

Bliss In Possession Will Not Last; Remembered Joys Are Never Past.

Joys Too Exquisite To Last, And Yet More Exquisite When Past.

The Tulip's Petals Shine In Dew, All Beautiful, But None Alike.

Who That Hath Ever Been Could Bear To Be No More? Yet Who Would Tread Again The Scene He Trod Through Life Before?

When The Good Man Yields His Breath (for The Good Man Never Dies).