The Young Are So Old,

[on Going To Sunday School:] It Looks Like Rain, And I Hope It Will Rain Cats And Dogs And Hammers And Pitchforks And Silver Sugar Spoons And Hay Ricks And Paper-covered Novels And Picture Frames And Rag Carpets And Toothpicks And Skating Rinks And Birds Of Paradise And Roof Gardens And Burdocks And French Grammars Before Sunday School Time.

Thus In The Winter Stands The Lonely Tree, Nor Knows What Birds Have Vanished One By One, Yet Knows Its Boughs More Silent Than Before

I Shall Die, But That Is All That I Shall Do For Death; I Am Not On His Pay-roll.

But You Were Something More Than Young And Sweet And Fair, - And The Long Year Remembers You.

Life Must Go On, Though Good Men Die.