KIND WORDS CAN NEVER DIE.
Bright things can never die, even though they fade;
Beauty and minstrelsy deathless were made!
What-though the Summer day passes at eve away,
Does not the moon's soft ray silver the night?
Kind words can never die; cherished and blest,
God knows how deep they lie, stored in the breast,
Like childhood's simple rhymes said over a thousand times,
Age, in all years and climes, distant and near.
Childhood can never die; wreck of the past
Floats over the memory bright to the last.
Many a happy thing, many a daisy Spring
Float over time's ceaseless wing, far, far away.