Love Is Like A Rose, The Joy

Obedience Is The Fruit Of Faith; Patience Is The Early Blossom On The Tree Of Faith.

Hurt No Living Thing: Ladybird, Nor Butterfly, Nor Moth With Dusty Wing.

The Violets Whisper From The Shade Which Their Own Leaves Have Made: Men Scent Our Fragrance On The Air, Yet Take No Heed Of Humble Lessons We Would Read.

It's Surely Summer. For There's A Swallow: Come One Swallow, His Mate Will Follow, The Bird Race Quicken And Wheel And Thicken.

Faith Is Like A Lily, Lifted High And White.