THE PASSING STRANGER.
He passed me on the street,
And never guessed
The strength he gave my heart,
And needed rest.
His noble face so shone
With holiness,
The very sight of it
Could not but bless.
I met him only once
Upon my way,
Many years ago,
And yet to-day
That face of light and strength
Still dwells with me;
The man "had been with God"—
'Twas plain to see.
—Edith Campbell Babbitt.
1848
Men of age * * * content themselves with a mediocrity of success.
—Bacon.