IV.
'Tis morning on the hill-tops! What matters sob or sin?
The Master waits our coming and welcomes us within;
And there beyond the shadows where gladness reigns alway
We'll meet the hosts of morning, and dwell with them for aye.
V.
O, Morning on the Hill-tops! The dim eyes look to you,
Beyond the darkened valleys and all the griefs they knew,
And to the sunshine waiting in realms of rhapsody,
The paths lead on and upward to where you wait for me!
The Defeated.
Not he who loses but who fails to fight,
In God's long years reaps [harvestings] of blame;
Not he the blind but who destroys the sight
Receives the curses of the ages' blame!
See the Side-Show.
When you visit at the circus
And behold the steeds bedight,
And the hoops and rings and races
And the clowns that make delight,—
You will miss the happy touches
That complete your broadest grin
If you see the main performance
And don't take the side-show in.