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Show forth thy light! If conscience gleam,

Cherish the rising glow,
The smallest spark may shed its beam,

()'er thousand hearts below,

Guard thou the fact! Tho'clouds of night

Down on thy watch-tower stoop; Tho' thou should'st see thy heart's delight

Borne from thee by their swoop.

Face thou the wind! Tho’ safer seem

In shelter to abide;
We were not made to sit and dream;

The true must first be tried.



One by one the sands are flowing,

One by one the moments fall, Some are coming, some are going,

Do not strive to grasp them all.

One by one thy duties wait thee,

Let thy whole strength go to each; Let no future dream elate thee,

Learn thou first what these can teach.

One by one thy griefs shall meet thee,

Do not fear an armed band;
One will fade as others greet thee,

Shadows passing thro' the land.

Do not linger with regretting,

Or for passing hours despond; Nor, the daily toil forgetting,

Look too eagerly beyond.

Every hour that fleets so slowly,

Has its task to do or bear; Luminous the crown, and holy,

When each gem is set with care.




Live for something; be not idle,

Look about thee for employ; Sit not down to useless dreaming,

Labor is the sweetest joy. Folded hands are ever weary,

Selfish hearts are never gay ; Life for thee hath many duties

Active be, then, while you may.

Scatter blessings in your pathway,

Gentle words and cheering smiles; Better far than gold and silver

Are their grief-dispelling wiles. As the pleasant sunshine falleth,

Ever on the grateful earth, So let sympathy and kindness

Gladden well the darken'd hearth.

Hearts that are oppressed and weary,

Drop the tear of sympathy; Whisper words of hope and comfort,

Give, and thy reward shall be Joy unto thy soul returning,

From this perfect fountainhead; Freely, as thou freely givest,

Shall the grateful light be shed.



All are architects of fate,

Working in these walls of time; Some with massive deed and great,

Some with ornaments of rhyme.

Nothing useless is, or low,

Each thing in its place is best; And what seems but idle show

Strengthens and supports the rest.

For the structure that we raise,

Time is with materials filled; Our to-days and yesterdays

Are the blocks with which we build.

Build to-day, then, strong and sure,

With a firm and ample base; And ascending and secure,

Shall to-morrow find its place.



How happy is he born and taught,

Who serveth not another's will; Whose armor is his honest thought,

And simple truth his only skill!

Whose passions not his masters are,

Whose soul is still prepared for death, Untied to this vain world by care

Of public fame or private breath!

This man is freed from servile bands,

Of hope to rise, or fear to fall; Lord of himself, though not of lands,

And having nothing, yet hath all.



The heart it hath its own estate,

The mind it hath its wealth untold; It needs not fortune to be great,

While there's a coin surpassing gold.

No matter which way fortune leans,

Wealth makes not happiness secure; A little mind hath little means,

A narrow heart is always poor.

'Tis not the house that honor makes,

True honor is a thing divine; It is the mind precedence takes,

It is the spirit makes the shrine.



There lives a voice within me,

Guest-angel of my heart, Whose whisp’rings strive to win me

To act the manful part. Up ever more it springeth

Like some sweet melody, And ever more it singeth,

This sacred truth to me: This world is full of beauty,

The coldest heart to move, And if we did our duty,

It might be full of love.

The leaf-tongue of the forest

The flower-lips of the sod;
The birds that hymn their raptures

Up to the throne of God,
The summer wind that bringeth

Joy over land and sea,
Have each a voice that singeth

This blessed truth to me:
This world is full of beauty, etc.

Oh, voice of God most tender

Oh, voice of God divine, Still be my heart's defender

Till every thought is Thine. My soul in gladness bringeth

Its song of praise to Thee,
While all around me singeth

This holy truth to me:
This world is full of beauty, etc.

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