“I am made to sow the thistle for wheat; the nettle for a nourishing daintyI have planted a false oath in the earth, it has brought forth a poison treeI have chosen the serpent for a councellor & the dog for a schoolmaster to my childrenI have blotted out from light & living the dove & the nightingaleAnd I have caused the earthworm to beg from door to door I have taught the thief a secret path into the house of the justI have taught pale artifice to spread his nets upon the morningMy heavens are brass my earth is iron my moon a clod of clayMy sun a pestilence burning at noon & a vapor of death in nightWhat is the price of Experience do men buy it for a song Or wisdom for a dance in the street? No it is bought with the priceOf all that a man hath his house his wife his childrenWisdom is sold in the desolate market where none come to buyAnd in the withered field where the farmer plows for bread in vainIt is an easy thing to triumph in the summers sun And in the vintage & to sing on the waggon loaded with cornIt is an easy thing to talk of patience to the afflictedTo speak the laws of prudence to the houseless wandererTo listen to the hungry ravens cry in wintry seasonWhen the red blood is filled with wine & with the marrow of lambs It is an easy thing to laugh at wrathful elementsTo hear a dog howl at the wintry door, the ox in the slaughter house moanTo see a god on every wind & a blessing on every blastTo hear the sounds of love in the thunder storm that destroys our enemies houseTo rejoice in the blight that covers his field, & the sickness that cuts off his childrenWhile our olive & vine sing & laugh round our door & our children bring fruits and flowersThen the groans & the dolor are quite forgotten & the slave grinding at the millAnd the captive in chains & the poor in the prison, & the soldier in the fieldWhen the shattered bone hath laid him groaning among the happier deadIt is an easy thing to rejoice in the tents of prosperity Thus could I sing & thus rejoice, but it is not so with me!”

“What is the price of Experience? Do men buy it for a song? Or wisdom for a dance in the street? No, it is bought with the priceOf all that a man hath, his house, his wife, his childrenWisdom is sold in the desolate market where none come to buyAnd in the wither'd field where the farmer ploughs for bread in vain It is an easy thing to triumph in the summer's sunAnd in the vintage and to sing on the waggon loaded with cornIt is an easy thing to talk of patience to the afflictedTo speak the laws of prudence to the homeless wandererTo listen to the hungry raven's cry in wintry seasonWhen the red blood is fill'd with wine and with the marrow of lambs It is an easy thing to laugh at wrathful elementsTo hear the dog howl at the wintry door, the ox in the slaughterhouse moan;To see a god on every wind and a blessing on every blastTo hear sounds of love in the thunderstorm that destroys our enemies' house;To rejoice in the blight that covers his field and the sickness that cuts off his children While our olive and vine sing and laugh round our door and our children bring fruits and flowers Then the groan and the dolour are quite forgotten and the slave grinding at the millAnd the captive in chains and the poor in the prison and the soldier in the field When the shatter'd bone hath laid him groaning among the happier deadIt is an easy thing to rejoice in the tents of prosperity:Thus could I sing and thus rejoice: but it is not so with me.”

“With all the strength of my soul I testify that our Heavenly Father loves each one of us. He hears the prayers of humble hearts; He hears our cries for help… His Son, our Savior and Redeemer, speaks to each of us today: ‘Behold, I stand at the door, and knock: if any man hear my voice, and open the door, I will come in to him.’ [Rev. 3:20] Will we listen for that knock? Will we hear that voice? Will we open that door to the Lord, that we may receive the help He is so ready to provide?”

“Ah, where in the world have there been greater follies than with the pitiful? And what in the world hath caused more suffering than the follies of the pitiful?Woe unto all loving ones who have not an elevation which is above their pity!Thus spake the devil unto me, once on a time: "Even God hath his hell: it is his love for man." And lately, did I hear him say these words: "God is dead: of his pity for man hath God died.”

“In mirth he mocks the other birds at noon,Catching the lilt of every easy tune; But when the day departs he sings of love,—His own wild song beneath the listening moon.”

“I think one of the sweetest lessons taught by the Prophet, and yet one of the saddest, occurred close to the time of his death. He was required to leave his plan and vision of the Rocky Mountains and give himself up to face a court of supposed justice.These are his words: 'I am going like a lamb to the slaughter; but I am calm as a summer's morning; I have a conscience void of offense towards God, and towards all men' (D&C 135:4). That statement of the Prophet teaches us obedience to law and the importance of having a clear conscience toward God and toward our fellowmen. The Prophet Joseph Smith taught these principles--by example.There was to be one great final lesson before his mortal life ended. He was incarcerated in Carthage Jail with his brother Hyrum, with John Taylor, and with Willard Richards. The angry mob stormed the jail; they came up the stairway, blasphemous in their cursing, heavily armed, and began to fire at will. Hyrum was hit and died. John Taylor took several balls of fire within his bosom. The Prophet Joseph, with his pistol in hand, was attempting to defend his life and that of his brethren, and yet he could tell from the pounding on the door that this mob would storm that door and would kill John Taylor and Willard Richards in an attempt to kill him.And so his last great act here upon the earth was to leave the door and lead Willard Richards to safety, throw the gun on the floor, and go to the window, that they might see him, that the attention of this ruthless mob might be focused upon him rather than the others. Joseph Smith gave his life. Willard Richards was spared, and John Taylor recovered from his wounds.'Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends' (John 15:13). The Prophet Joseph Smith taught us love--by example.”