They that cannot for God's
gold
wait dash for the devil's dross.

On the green pastures of tranquil peace
And prosperity may my soul famished
Ever be laid, to be fed and sated . . .

May my heart parched find solace
Beside the brook of goodness still
And cool, and my emptiness refill . . .

Serenity for trouble, joy for sorrow:
Let singing boughs bear the barren
Figs--bringing forth fruit of wren . . .

Arrow aimed at a flying sparrow,
Man must live not by bread alone.
He gains heaven that hell doth disown.

When we sleep or die,
know not where we lie.

Futile mental exertion,
blurring the vision
of wisdom
from
breakthrough.

Remov'd, affection horn . . .
heavy flood of tears flowing--
blood emotional's gushing
out from a heart broken.

Walks without halting gait--
changing styles;
swims across Dire Strait.

Why art thou staying still my breath,
Who suppose to have long perished?
Why dost thou count me amongst
The living, that ought to have vanished?

To life am I not entitled for many
A reason--am unworthy of being;
Yet with thy strong arm of grace
Hast thou been blessing me, O heaven.