Rest if you must, but never quit.
Round the boles of the pine-wood the ground-laurel creeps, Unkissed of the sunshine, unbaptized of showers, With buds scarcely swelled, which should burst into flowers!
Children have neither past nor future – they rejoice in the present.
What moistens the lip and what brightens the eye? What calls back the past like the rich pumpkin pie?
Leaning on Him, make with reverent meekness His own thy will.
The good is always beautiful, the beautiful is good!
A true life is at once interpreter and proof of the gospel.
Despair is infidelity and death.
Yet, in the maddening maze of things, And tossed by storm and flood, To one fixed trust my spirit clings; I know that God is good!
Who fathoms the Eternal Thought? Who talks of scheme and plan? The Lord is God! He needeth not The poor device of man.
Reason’s voice and God’s, Nature’s and Duty’s, never are at odds.
The hope of all earnest souls must be realized.
Falsehoods which we spurn today, were the truths of long ago.
With our sympathy for the wrongdoer we need the old Puritan and Quaker hatred of wrongdoing; with our just tolerance of men and opinions a righteous abhorrence of sin.
Low stir of leaves and dip of oars And lapsing waves on quiet shores.
The hope of all who suffer, The dread of all who wrong.
His daily prayer, far better understood in acts than in words, was simply doing good.
Once more the liberal year laughs out O’er richer stores than gems or gold: Once more with harvest song and shout Is nature’s boldest triumph told.
We meet today To thank Thee for the era done, And Thee for the opening one.
They tell me, Lucy, thou art dead, that all of thee we loved and cherished has with thy summer roses perished; and left, as its young beauty fled, an ashen memory in its stead.