Today Is The Blocks With Which We

The Rays Of Happiness, Like Those Of Light, Are Colorless When Unbroken.

Where, Twisted Round The Barren Oak, The Summer Vine In Beauty Clung, And Summer Winds The Stillness Broke, The Crystal Icicle Is Hung.

Truths That Startled The Generation In Which They Were First Announced Become In The Next Age The Commonplaces Of Conversation; As The Famous Airs Of Operas Which Thrilled The First Audiences Come To Be Played On Hand-organs In The Streets.

Each Morning Sees Some Task Begin, Each Evening Sees It Close.

Be Thy Sleep Silent As Night Is, And As Deep.