Ah! The Clock Is Always

Some Praise The Lord For Light, The Living Spark; I Thank God For The Night The Healing Dark.

Our Breath Is Brief, And Being So Let's Make Our Heaven Here Below, And Lavish Kindness As We Go.

It Isn't The Mountain Ahead That Wears You Out; It's The Grain Of Sand In Your Shoe.

It's The Steady, Quiet, Plodding Ones Who Win In The Lifelong Race.

I Remember Little Of The Yukon Or What I Wrote There.