Let not the conflict make thee sour or sad;
Swerve not from battle: faithful, loyal, glad—
The likeness of our Saviour may be had.
Aim high, press on!
—James Mudge.
———
Forenoon and afternoon and night,—Forenoon,
And afternoon, and night,—Forenoon, and—what?
The empty song repeats itself. No more?
Yea, that is Life: make this forenoon sublime,