Like A Blind Spinner In The Sun,i

Wounded Vanity Knows When It Is Mortally Hurt; And Limps Off The Field, Piteous, All Disguises Thrown Away. But Pride Carries Its Banner To The Last; And Fast As It Is Driven From One Field Unfurls It In Another, Never Admitting That There Is A Shade Less Honor In The Second Field Than In The First, Or In The Third Than In The Second.

Who Waits Until The Wind Shall Silent Keep Will Never Find The Ready Hour To Sow.

But All Lost Things Are In The Angels' Keeping, Love; No Past Is Dead For Us, But Only Sleeping, Love; The Years Of Heaven With All Earth's Little Pain Make Good Together There We Can Begin Again, In Babyhood.

One Of Dr. Johnson's Ingredients Of Happiness Was, "a Little Less Time Than You Want." That Means Always To Have So Many Things You Want To See, To Have, And To Do, That No Day Is Quite Long Enough For All You Think You Would Like To Get Done Before You Go To Bed.

Ah, March! We Know Thou Art Kind-hearted, Spite Of Ugly Looks And Threats, And, Out Of Sight, Art Nursing April's Violets!