929
Hope.—"Hast thou hope?" they asked of John Knox, when he lay a-dying. He spoke nothing, but "raised his finger and pointed upward," and so died.
—Carlyle.
930
HOSPITALITY.
You must come home with me and be my guest;
You will give joy to me, and I will do
All that is in my power to honor you.
—P. B. Shelley.
931
All our sweetest hours fly fastest.
—Virgil.