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HOW SKILLFUL GROWS THE HAND.
He that followeth love's behest,
The future hides in it,
And solemn before us,
While earnest thou gazest,
With doubt and misgiving.
But heard are the voices,
"Here eyes do regard you,
Whene'er a noble deed is wrought,
The tidal wave of deeper souls
Honor to those whose words and deeds Thus help us in our daily needs,
And by their overflow
Raise us from what is low.
Honor to him who freely gives
Who shares the gifts that he receives
O'er sorrow and distress;
Honor to him who shuns to do
Who will a nobler course pursue
Who seeks for justice more than gain,
Who will not cause a needless pain
Honor to him who scorns to be
Who, when he sees oppression, wrong,
Who feels that he with truth is strong, To grapple e'en with thrones.
Speak gently! It is better far
Speak gently to the young, for they
Speak gently to the aged one,
Grieve not the care-worn heart; The sands of life are nearly run, Let them in peace depart.
Speak gently to the erring ones,
They must have toiled in vain; Perchance unkindness made them so; Oh! win them back again.
Speak gently! "Tis a little thing
THE GOLDEN CITY.
Have you heard the golden city
Mentioned in the legends old? Everlasting light shines o'er it,
Wondrous tales of it are told; Only righteous men and women
Dwell within its gleaming wall, Wrong is banished from its borders, Justice reigns supreme o'er all. Wrong is banished from its borders, Justice reigns supreme o'er all.
We are builders of that city,
All our lives are building-stones:
Oft with bleeding hands and tears,
Will not perish with the years,
It will be, at last made perfect,
It will help to crown the labors
SAY NOT THEY DIE.
Say not they die, those martyr souls
Such cannot die; they anquish time,
And fill the world with growing light, Making the human life sublime
With memories of their sacred might.