But a short, pleasant way from the mill.
But fondness and faith will be growing,
Be the sky clear or cloudy above.
When fortune is ripe to the mowing
We shall gather our harvest of love!
CHARITY
COME! walk with the world and go down to the destitute homes of the poor,
Where weeping is louder than laughter, where sorrow and famine abide;
Where Azrael reaps a full harvest and darkens each desolate door;