Man Is Unjust, But God Is Just;

Ah, To Build, To Build! That Is The Noblest Of All The Arts.

Trust No Future, However Pleasant! Let The Dead Past Bury Its Dead! Act -- Act In The Living Present! Heart Within And God Overhead.

It Is The Harvest Moon! On Gilded Vanes And Roofs Of Villages, On Woodland Crests And Their Aerial Neighborhoods Of Nests Deserted, On The Curtained Window-panes Of Rooms Where Children Sleep, On Country Lanes And Harvest-fields, Its Mystic Splendor Rests.

Kind Messages, That Pass From Land To Land; Kind Letters, That Betray The Heart's Deep History, In Which We Feel The Pressure Of A Hand,-- One Touch Of Fire,--and All The Rest Is Mystery!

Ah, Nothing Is Too Late, Till The Tired Heart Shall Cease To Palpitate.