The Most Essential Factor Is

I Cannot Say, And I Will Not Say That He Is Dead. He Is Just Away. With A Cheery Smile, And A Wave Of The Hand, He Has Wandered Into An Unknown Land And Left Us Dreaming How Very Fair It Needs Must Be, Since He Lingers There. And You - Oh You, Who The Wildest Yearn For An Old-time Step, And The Glad Return, Think Of Him Faring On, As Dear In The Love Of There As The Love Of Here. Think Of Him Still As The Same. I Say, He Is Not Dead - He Is Just Away.

I Don't Know How To Tell It--but Ef Such A Thing Could Be As The Angels Wantin' Boardin', And They'd Call Around On Me-- I'd Want To 'ccommodate 'em--all The Whole-in-durin' Flock-- When The Frost Is On The Punkin And The Fodder's In The Shock.

It Is No Use To Grumble And Complain; It's Just As Cheap And Easy To Rejoice; When God Sorts Out The Weather And Sends Rain - Why, Rain's My Choice.

As One Who Cons At Evening O'er An Album All Alone, And Muses On The Faces Of The Friends That He Has Known, So I Turn The Leaves Of Fancy, Till In Shadowy Design I Find The Smiling Features Of An Old Sweetheart Of Mine.

Think Of Him Still As The Same, I Say, He Is Not Dead, He Is Just - Away.