God Made The Country, And

Skins May Differ, But Affection Dwells In White And Black The Same.

The Man To Solitude Accustom'd Long, Perceives In Everything That Lives A Tongue; Not Animals Alone, But Shrubs And Trees Have Speech For Him, And Understood With Ease, After Long Drought When Rains Abundant Fall, He Hears The Herbs And Flowers Rejoicing All.

The Cares Of Today Are Seldom Those Of Tomorrow, And When We Lie Down At Night We May Safely Say To Most Of Our Troubles, "ye Have Done Your Worst, And We Shall See You No More."

Unmissed But By His Dogs And By His Groom.

No Traveler E'er Reached That Blest Abode Who Found Not Thorns And Briers In His Road.