It is a very busy world in which we mortals meet,
There are so many weary hands, so many tired feet;
So many, many tasks are born with every morning’s sun.
And though we labor with a will the work seems never done.
I hate a thing done by halves. If it be right, do it boldly; if it be wrong, leave it undone.—Gilpin. And yet for every moment’s task there comes a moment’s time:
The burden and the strength to bear are like a perfect rhyme.
The heart makes strong the honest hand, the will seeks out the way,
Nor must we do to-morrow’s work, nor yesterday’s, to-day.
We scale the mountain’s rugged side, not at one mighty leap,
But step by step and breath by breath we climb the lofty steep.
What we need most is not so much to realize the ideal as to idealize the real.—F. H. Hedge. Each simple duty comes alone our willing strength to try;
One little moment at a time and so the days go by.
With strength to lift and heart to hope, we strive from sun to sun,
A little here, a little there, and all our tasks are done;
There’s time to toil and time to sing and time for us to play,
Nor must we do to-morrow’s work, nor yesterday’s, to-day.
From a Photograph, Copyright, 1902, by J. E. Purdy, Boston
JULIA WARD HOWE
CHAPTER V
THE VALUE OF SUNSHINE