And my deep and heartfelt anguish when they told me she was dead.
And, oh! that cup of bitterness—but let not this heart rebel,
God gave; he took; he can restore; "He doeth all things well."
[ HOW OLD ART THOU? ]
Count not the days that have idly flown,
The years that were vainly spent;
Nor speak of the hours thou must blush to own,
When thy spirit stands before the throne
To account for the talents lent.
But number the hours redeemed from sin,