Years Steal Fire From The

Exhausting Thought, And Hiving Wisdom With Each Studious Year.

The Truly Brave Are Soft Of Heart And Eyes, And Feel For What Their Duty Bids Them Do.

Few Things Surpass Old Wine; And They May Preach Who Please, The More Because They Preach In Vain

My Days Are In The Yellow Leaf; The Flowers And Fruits Of Love Are Gone; The Worm, The Canker, And The Grief, Are Mine Alone!

I Came To Realize Clearly That The Mind Is No Other Than The Mountain And The Rivers And The Great Wide Earth, The Sun And The Moon And The Sky”.