And hushed the breath of sighing;
Before the joy of peace must come
The pains of purifying.
God give us grace,
Each in his place
To bear his lot,
And, murmuring not,
Endure, and wait, and labor!"
To this was added another of Whittier's poems, called The Crisis, as follows:
"The crisis presses on us; face to face with us it stands,