Requiem
Under the wide and starry sky
Dig the grave and let me lie
Glad did I live and gladly die
And I laid me down with a will
This be the verse you grave for me
Here he lies where he longed to be
Home is the sailor, home from sea
And the hunter home from the hill


In every part and corner of our life, to lose oneself is to be a gainer; to forget oneself is to be happy.


To travel hopefully is a better thing than to arrive.