If All The World Is

Boot, Saddle, To Horse, And Away!

Unless You Can Love, As The Angels May, With The Breadth Of Heaven Betwixt You; Unless You Can Dream That His Faith Is Fast, Through Behoving And Unbeloving; Unless You Can Die When The Dream Is Past- Oh, Never Call It Loving!

You Never Know What Life Means Till You Die; Even Throughout Life, Tis Death That Makes Life Live.

We Find Great Things Are Made Of Little Things, And Little Things Go Lessening Till At Last Comes God Behind Them.

A Face To Lose Youth For, To Occupy Age With The Dream Of, Meet Death With.