I Begin To Think That None Are

Deep Violets, You Liken To The Kindest Eyes That Look On You, Without A Thought Disloyal.

Life Treads On Life, And Heart On Heart; We Press Too Close In Church And Mart To Keep A Dream Or Grave Apart.

Why, What Is To Live? Not To Eat And Drink And Breathe,—but To Feel The Life In You Down All The Fibres Of Being, Passionately And Joyfully.

The Sweetest Lives Are Those To Duty Wed, Whose Deeds, Both Great And Small Are Close-knot Strands Of An Unbroken Thread There Love Ennobles All. The World May Sound No Trumpets, Ring No Bells The Book Of Life The Shining Record Tells. Thy Love Shall Chant Its Own Beatitudes After Its Own Life-workings. A Child's Kiss Set On Thy Sighing Lips Shall Make Thee Glad; A Poor Man Served By Thee Shall Make Thee Rich; A Sick Man Helped By Thee Shall Make Thee Strong; Thou Shalt Serve Thyself By Every Sense, Of Service Which Thou Renderest.

Get Leave To Work In This World,--'tis The Best You Get At All.