Classic Poem

The sorrows of the living in tears that are shed,
Are oftimes calmed by the silent speech of those that are dead.

Some of them have been gone for many years.
Ministering souls of Mosier in the great vineyard of careers.

Shadows of the soul's despair, are banished by the host of the saints
of the air.
Mosier's saints as they linger near.

Mosier, with his saints, shall return to reign some day.
By the spirit of his light over all his people of the great white way.