"Are ye able," said the Master, "To be crucified with me?" "Yea," the sturdy dreamers answered, "To the death we follow Thee." Lord, we are able. Our spirits are Thine. Remold them, make us, Like Thee, divine. Thy guiding radiance Above us shall be A beacon to God, To love, and loyalty. Are ye able to remember, When a thief lifts up his eyes, That his pardoned soul is worthy Of a place in paradise? Are ye able when the shadows Close around you with the sod, To believe that spirit triumphs, To commend your soul to God? "Are ye able?" Still the Master Whispers down eternity, And heroic spirits answer Now, as then, in Galilee.Mana quyosh chiqdi osmonda ياللى بديت الرحلة معايا Если б не Ты Prečo ste smutný? Заспівайте Господу Кесиме Гьотюрюлен Бир Койун Гиби En tu nombre congregados اي أغابي مع إن LIFE AT BEST IS VERY BRIEF
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