Of all sad words of tongue or pen, the saddest are these, ‘It might have been.’
The windows of my soul I throw Wide open to the sun.
Methinks I see the sunset light flooding the river valley, the western hills stretching to the horizon, overhung with trees gorgeous and glowing with the tints of autumn – a mighty flower garden blossoming under the spell of the enchanter, frost.
Who never wins can rarely lose, Who never climbs as rarely falls.
Peace hath higher tests of manhood, than battle ever knew.
Give fools their gold, and knaves their power; let fortune’s bubbles rise and fall; who sows a field, or trains a flower, or plants a tree, is more than all.
Again the blackbirds sings; the streams Wake, laughing, from their winter dreams, And tremble in the April showers The tassels of the maple flowers.
God fills the gaps of human need, Each crisis brings its word and deed.
Every chain that spirits wear crumbles in the breadth of prayer.
Before me, even as behind, God is, and all is well.
One brave deed makes no hero.
I’ll lift you and you lift me, and we’ll both ascend together.
Through the dark and stormy night Faith beholds a feeble light Up the blackness streaking; Knowing God’s own time is best, In a patient hope I rest For the full day-breaking!
Clothe with life the weak intent, Let me be the thing I meant...
Tradition wears a snowy beard, romance is always young.
A little smile, a word of cheer, A bit of love from someone near, A little gift from one held dear, Best wishes for the coming year. These make a merry christmas!