But the present hour is in your power, and so you will enjoy it, O.
Burns.
18. You will be blest exceedingly; your store
Grow daily, weekly, more and more,
And peace so multiply around,
Your very hearth seem holy ground.
Mary Howitt.
19. With steady aim your fortune chase,
Keen hope let every sinew brace,
Through fair, through foul, urge on your race,