The Essence Of Justice Is Mercy.

The Night Comes For The Purpose Of Checking Our Busy Employment, And Introducing An Interval Of Repose Between The Links Of Our Action And Our Aspiration. It Draws Its Dim Curtain Around The Field Of Toil. It Buries The Objects Of Our Handiwork In Darkness, And Involves Them With Uncertainty. It Comes To The Relief Of The Exhausted Body And The Tired Brain. Our Powers, Harmonizing With The Diurnal Revolutions Of The Earth, Fail With The Failing Light, And A Merciful Providence Casts Around Us This Mantle Of Shadow, And Snatches Us From Our Occupation.

Truth Is The Root, But Human Sympathy Is The Flower Of Practical Life.

Each Thing Lives According To Its Kind; The Heart By Love, The Intellect By Truth, The Higher Nature Of Man By Intimate Communion With God.

It Is The Veiled Angel Of Sorrow Who Plucks Away One Thing And Another That Bound Us Here In Ease And Security, And, In The Vanishing Of These Dear Objects, Indicates The True Home Of Our Affections And Our Peace.

Munificent Nature Follows The Methods Of The Divine And True, And Rounds All Things To Her Perfect Law. While Nations Are Convulsed With Blood And Violence, How Quietly The Grass Grows.