But Once
We go this way but once, O friend of mine,
So why not make the journey well worthwhile,
Giving to those who travel with us
A helping hand, a word of cheer, a smile?

We go this way but once. Ah! never more
Can we go back along the self-same way
To get more out of life, undo the wrongs,
Or speak love’s words we knew but did not say.

We go this way but once. Then let us make
The road we travel blossomy and sweet
With helpful, kindly deeds and tender words,
Smoothing the path of bruised and stumbling feet.
— Anonymous


Not How Did He Die, But How Did He Live?
Not how did he die, but how did he live?

Not, what did he gain, but what did he give?
These are the units to measure the worth
Of a man as a man, regardless of his birth.
Not what was his church, nor what was his creed?
But had he befriended those really in need?
Was he ever ready, with words of good cheer,
To bring back a smile, to banish a tear?
Not what did the sketch in the newspaper say,
But how many were sorry when he passed away?
— Anonymous


Lay Not Up For Yourselves Treasures Upon Earth
Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth, where moth and rust doth corrupt, and where thieves break through and steal:

But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and where thieves do not break through nor steal:
For where your treasures is, there will your heart be also.
— Matthew 6: 19-21


What is life if, full of care,

We have no time to stand and stare?
No time to stand beneath the boughs
And stare as long as sheep or cows
No time to see when woods we pass
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass
No time to see, in broad daylight
Streams full of stars, like skies at night
No time to turn at Beauty’s glance
And watch her feet, how they can dance
No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began?
A poor life this if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.
— William Henry Davies, Welsh poet, writer and traveler (1871 – 1940)