The Nearer The Dawn The

Standing, With Reluctant Feet, Where The Brook And River Meet, Womanhood And Childhood Fleet!

Day, Like A Weary Pilgrim, Had Reached The Western Gate Of Heaven, And Evening Stooped Down To Unloose The Latchets Of His Sandal Shoon.

It Is The Heart And Not The Brain, That To The Highest Doth Attain.

How Beautiful Is The Rain! After The Dust And The Heat, In The Broad And Fiery Street, In The Narrow Lane, How Beautiful Is The Rain!

Fame Comes Only When Deserved, And Then Is As Inevitable As Destiny, For It Is Destiny.