What Else Remains For Me?

The Hooded Clouds, Like Friars, Tell Their Beads In Drops Of Rain.

A Boy's Will Is The Wind's Will, And The Thought's Of Youth Are Long, Long Thoughhts

Take This Sorrow To Thy Heart And Make It Part Of Thee, And It Shall Nourish Thee Till Thou Art Strong Again.

Three Silences There Are: The First Of Speech, The Second Of Desire, The Third Of Thought.

There's Not A Ship That Sails The Ocean, But Every Climate, Every Soil, Must Bring Its Tribute, Great Or Small, And Help To Build The Wooden Wall!