To spend ourselves upon the general good;
And, oft misunderstood,
To strive to lift the limbs and knees that bleed;
This is the best, the fullest meed.
Let ignorance assail or hatred sneer;
Who loves his race he shall not fear;
He suffers not for long
Who doth his soul possess in loving and grows strong.
“Ay, labour, thou art blest,
From all the earth thy voice, a constant prayer,
Soars upward day and night;
A voice of aspiration after right;
A voice of effort yearning for its rest;
A voice of high hope conquering despair.”
LEWIS MORRIS
The holiest task by Heaven decreed,
An errand all divine,
The burden of our common need
To render less, is thine.
“The paths of pain are thine. Go forth
With patience, trust, and hope;
The sufferings of a sin-sick earth
Shall give thee ample scope.”
An errand all divine,
The burden of our common need
To render less, is thine.
“The paths of pain are thine. Go forth
With patience, trust, and hope;
The sufferings of a sin-sick earth
Shall give thee ample scope.”
WHITTIER
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