Time Is The Life Of The Soul.

How In The Turmoil Of Life Can Love Stand, Where There Is Not One Heart, And One Mouth And One Hand.

All Things Come Round To Him Who Will But Wait.

Life Is Real! Life Is Earnest! And The Grave Is Not Its Goal; Dust Thou Art, To Dust Returnest, Was Not Spoken Of The Soul.

And When The Echoes Had Ceased, Like A Sense Of Pain Was The Silence.

Nothing That Is Can Pause Or Stay; / The Moon Will Wax, The Moon Will Wane, / The Mist And Cloud Will Turn To Rain, / The Rain To Mist And Cloud Again, / Tomorrow Be Today.