Oh! take the lesson to thy soul, forever clasp it fast, The mill will never grind again with water that is past." Work on while yet the sun doth shine, thou man of strength and will, The streamlet ne'er doth useless glide by clicking water-mill; Nor wait until to-morrow's light, beams brightly on thy way, For all that thou can'st call thine own, lies in the phrase to-day. Possessions, power, and blooming health must all be lost at last, "The mill will never grind again with water that is past." Oh! love thy God and fellow men, thyself consider last, For come it will when thou must scan dark errors of the past. Soon will this fight of life be o'er, and earth recede from view, And Heaven in all its glory shine, where all is pure and true. Ah! then thou'lt see more clearly still, the proverb deep and vast, "The mill will never grind again with water that is past." WHOM GOD HATH JOINED BY T. G. MC CLAUGHRY We have sipped the cup of sorrow, We have waited a to-morrow, We have watched beside a bed, Crushed beneath a weight of dread, We have owned our helplessness, We have sought God in distress, We have shed a common tear Shall we break the ties that bind us, Thou and I? Shall we put those days behind us, Thou and I? God has wed with grief and pain, Shall we prove that union vain, Thou and I? OPPORTUNITY BY WALTER MALONE They do me wrong who say I come no more Though deep in mire, wring not your hands and weep, LINCOLN, THE MAN OF THE PEOPLE BY EDWIN MARKHAM When the Norn Mother saw the Whirlwind Hour Tempered the heap with thrill of human tears; A man to match the mountains and the sea. The color of the ground was in him, the red earth; The smack and tang of elemental things: The rectitude and patience of the cliff; The good-will of the rain that loves all leaves; Sprung from the West, The strength of virgin forests braced his mind, One fire was on his spirit, one resolve With the fine stroke and gesture of a king: So came the Captain with the thinking heart; O, LAY THY HAND IN MINE, DEAR BY GERALD MASSEY O, lay thy hand in mine, dear! We're growing old; But Time hath brought no sign, dear, That hearts grow cold. "T is long, long since our new love Made life divine; But age enricheth true love, Like noble wine. |