Questions & Answers
" Forbid them not," said the Master "But let them come unto Me. " And so they clustered around him.
Over and over again, No matter which way I turn, I always find in the Book of Life Some lesson I have to learn. I must take my turn at the mill, I must grind out the golden grain ; I must work at my task with a resolute will Over and over again.
"De memoires de Roses on n'a point vu mourir le Jardinier. " The Rose in the garden slipped her bud, And she laughed in the pride of her youthful blood, As she thought of the Gardener standing by— "He is old—so old ! And he soon will die!" The full Rose waxed in the warm June air, And she spread, and spread, till her heart lay bare; And she laughed once more as she heard his tread— "He is older now.
Just a saunter in the twilight, Just a whisper in the hall, Just a sail on sea or river, Just a dance at rout or ball, Just a glance that hearts enthral— This is all—and this is all. Just a few harsh words of doubting.
Fly , envious Time, till thou run out thy race; Call on the long, leaden-stepping hours, Whose speed is but the heavy plummet's face; And glut thyself with what thy womb devours, Which is no more than what is false and vain, And merely mortal dross; So little is our loss, So little is thy gain: For, when as each thing bad thou hast entombed. And last of all thy greedy self consumed, Then long Eternity shall greet our bliss With an individual kiss; And joy shall overtake us as a flood, When everything that is sincerely good And perfectly divine, With truth, and peace and love, shall ever Shine About the supreme throne Of him to whose happy making, sight alone When once our heavenly guarded souls shall climb Then, all this earthly grossness quit, Attired with stars we shall forever sit, Triumphing over Death, and Chance, and thee O Time! John Milton.
In the hush of the valley of Silence I dream all the songs that I sing; And the music floats down the dim valley, Till each finds a word for a wing, That to hearts, like the dove of the Deluge, A message of peace they may bring. But far on the deep there are billows That never shall break on the beach; And I have heard songs in the silence That never shall float into speech: And I have had dreams in the valley Too lofty for language to reach.
With one high hope which over shines Before you as a star, One prayer of faith, one fount of strength, A glorious few ye are! Ye dare not fear, ye cannot fail, Your destiny ye bind To that sublime, elemental law That rules the march of Mind. "Tis said, that Persia's baffled King, In mad tyrannic pride, Cast fetters on the Hellespont, To curb Its swelling tide.
True worth is in being, not seeming,— In doing each day that goes by Some little good—not in dreaming Of great things to do by and by. For whatever men say in their blindness, And spite of the fancies of youth, There's nothing so kingly as kindness, And nothing so royal as truth.
When winds are raging o'er the upper ocean, And billows wild contend with angry roar, 'Tis said, far down beneath the wild commotion, That peaceful stillness reigneth evermore. Far, far beneath the noise of tempests dieth, And silver waves chime ever peacefully; And no rude storm, how fierce soe'er it flieth, Disturbs the sabbath of that deeper sea.
"Oh, where is the sea?" the fishes cried, As they swam the crystal clearness through; " We've heard from of old of the ocean's tide. And we long to look on the waters blue.