Unattributed Author

Some thoughtlessly proclaim the Muses nine:
A tenth is Sappho, maid divine.

Some thoughtlessly proclaim the Muses nine:
A tenth is Sappho, maid divine.

Our life's a flying shadow, God the pole,
The needle pointing to Him is our soul.

Our life's a flying shadow, God the pole,
The needle pointing to Him is our soul.

Oh, tell me whence Love cometh!
Love comes uncall'd, unsent.
Oh, tell me where Love goeth!
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Oh, tell me whence Love cometh!
Love comes uncall'd, unsent.
Oh, tell me where Love goeth!
That was not Love that went.

If cold December gave you birth,
The month of snow and ice and mirth,
Place on you read more

If cold December gave you birth,
The month of snow and ice and mirth,
Place on you hand a Turquoise blue,
Success will bless whate'er you do.

Give God thy heart, thy service, and thy gold; The day wears on,
and time is waxing old.
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Give God thy heart, thy service, and thy gold; The day wears on,
and time is waxing old.
- Unattributed Author,