We Sleep, But The Loom Of Life

Troubles Are Often The Tools By Which God Fashions Us For Better Things.

Success Is Full Of Promise Till One Gets It, And Then It Seems Like A Nest From Which The Bird Has Flown.

If One Should Give Me A Dish Of Sand, And Tell Me There Were Particles Of Iron In It, I Might Look For Them With My Eyes, And Search For Them With My Clumsy Fingers, And Be Unable To Detect Them; But Let Me Take A Magnet And Sweep Through It, And How Would It Draw To Itself The Almost Invisible Particles By The Mere Power Of Attraction. The Unthankful Heart, Like My Finger In The Sand, Discovers No Mercies; But Let The Thankful Heart Sweep Through The Day, And As The Magnet Finds The Iron, So It Will Find, In Every Hour, Some Heavenly Blessings.

It Gives One A Sudden Start In Going Down A Barren, Stoney Street, To See Upon A Narrow Strip Of Grass, Just Within The Iron Fence, The Radiant Dandelion, Shining In The Grass, Like A Spark Dropped From The Sun.

The Methods By Which Men Have Met And Conquered Trouble, Or Been Slain By It, Are The Same In Every Age.