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 COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 
 
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 NEW YORK 
 DODGE PUBLISHING COMPANY 
 
 220 EAST 23d STREET 
 
 L 
 
LIHMHHY of CONGRESS 
 Two Cosies Received 
 
 SEP 6 190? 
 
 v Cwynet* irtry 
 
 CLASM '' XXc., No. 
 
 A- 
 
 
 Copyright, 1907, by 
 Dodge Publishing Company 
 
I see not a step before me as I tread on 
 
 another year; 
 But I've left the past in God's keeping — 
 
 the future His mercy shall clear, 
 And what looks dark in the distance may 
 
 brighten as I draw near. 
 
 M. G. Brainard. 
 
 January 2. 
 
 All before us lies the way; 
 
 Give the past unto the wind; 
 All before us is the day; 
 
 Night and darkness are behind. 
 
 Emerson. 
 
 / 
 
 January 3. 
 Never, my heart, shalt thou grow old I 
 
 One by one my powers depart, 
 But youth sits smiling in my heart. 
 
 L. J. Hall. 
 
 [i] 
 
January 4. 
 
 Laugh at danger far or near! 
 Spurn at baseness! spurn at fear! 
 Still, with persevering might, 
 Speak the truth and do the right. 
 
 A. H. Everett. 
 
 \ 
 
 January 5. 
 
 Think not in sleep to fold thy hands, 
 Forgetful of thy Lord's commands ; 
 From duty's claims no life is free — 
 Behold, to-day hath need of thee! 
 
 W. H. Burleigh. 
 
 January 6. 
 
 Bear through sorrow, wrong and ruth, 
 In thy heart the dew of youth, 
 On thy lips the smile of truth. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 [2] 
 
O fear not in a world like this, 
 And thou shalt know ere long — 
 
 Know how sublime a thing it is 
 To suffer and be strong! 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 January 8. 
 
 The sparrow told it to the robin, 
 The robin told it to the wren, 
 Who passed it on, with sweet remark, 
 To thrush, and bobolink, and lark — 
 The news that Dawn had come again! 
 
 A. M. Pratt. 
 
 / 
 
 January 9. 
 
 Rise, trim thy lamp; the feeble past 
 
 Behind thee put and spurn. 
 With God it is not soon or late, 
 So that thy light, now flaming great, 
 Doth ever fiercer burn. 
 
 S. P. McL. Greene. 
 [8] 
 
s 
 
 Over the foot-worn track, over the rock 
 and thorn 
 The tired heart looked back to the 
 olive leaves of morn, 
 To the fair, lost fields again, and said, "I 
 hear it! Oh, hark!"— 
 Though the bird were long since slain, 
 though the song had died in the 
 dark. 
 
 V. W. Cloud. 
 
 January ii. 
 
 On the wind my spirit flew; 
 Its freedom was mine as well. 
 For a moment the world was new: 
 What came there to break the spell? 
 The wind still freshly blew; 
 My spirit it was that fell. 
 
 W. Howells. 
 
A deed, a word, our careless rest, 
 
 A simple thought, a common feeling, 
 
 If He be present in the breast, 
 Have from Him powers of healing. 
 
 J. H. Perkins. 
 
 January 13. 
 
 No one is so accursed by fate, 
 No one so utterly desolate, 
 
 But some heart, though unknown, 
 
 Responds unto his own. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 ) 
 
 January 14. 
 
 Enough to feel 
 That God, indeed, is good. Enough to 
 
 know, 
 Without the gloomy cloud, He could re- 
 veal 
 No beauteous bow. 
 
 Wm. Crosszvell. 
 [5] 
 
While the day lingers, do thy best. 
 Full soon the night will bring its rest; 
 And, duty done, that rest will be 
 Full of beatitudes to thee. 
 
 W. H. Burleigh. 
 
 \ 
 
 January 16. 
 
 She lives, her heart-beats given to others' 
 
 needs, 
 Her hands, to lift for others on the way 
 The burdens which their weariness for- 
 sook. 
 
 M. A. Townsend. 
 
 ( 
 
 January 17. 
 
 Fair are the flowers and the children, but 
 their subtle suggestion is fairer; 
 
 Rare is the roseburst of dawn, but the se- 
 cret that clasps it is rarer. 
 
 R. Realf. 
 
Friends my soul with joy remembers, 
 How like quivering flames they start, 
 
 When I fan the living embers 
 On the hearthstone of my heart! 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 \ 
 
 January 19. 
 
 What's fame, when the truth is told? A 
 
 shout to a distant hill, 
 The crags may echo a while ; but fainter 
 
 and fainter still. 
 
 M. A. De Vere. 
 
 January 20. 
 
 O restful, blissful ignorance! 'tis blessed 
 
 not to know; 
 It keeps me still in those mighty arms 
 
 which will not let me go, 
 And lulls my weariness to rest on the 
 
 bosom that loves me so. 
 
 M. G. Brainard. 
 
 / 
 
s 
 
 January 21. 
 Ah, how skilful grows the hand 
 That obeyeth Love's command! 
 It is the heart and not the brain 
 That to the highest doth attain; 
 And he who followeth Love's behest 
 Far exceedeth all the rest! r , „ 
 
 Longfellow. 
 January 22. 
 In those calm eyes I see 
 The image of the Master, Christ, alone, 
 And from those patient lips I hear one 
 
 prayer: 
 "Dear Lord, dear Lord, that I may be 
 like Thee!" R . G . Banker. 
 
 January 23. 
 Thou shalt not want for light enough, 
 
 When earthly moons grow dim; 
 The dawn is but begun for thee, 
 When thou shalt hand, so tremblingly, 
 
 Thy empty lamp to Him. 
 
 S. P. McL. Greene. 
 
 f 
 
V 
 
 american poets 
 
 January 24. 
 Out of the heart there flew a little sing- 
 ing bird, 
 Past the dawn and the dew, where 
 leaves of morning stirred; 
 And the heart which followed on said, 
 "Though the bird be flown 
 Which sang in the dew and the dawn, 
 the song is still my own." 
 
 V. W. Cloud. 
 
 January 25. 
 
 O friend! O best of friends! Thy ab- 
 sence more 
 
 Than the impending night darkens the 
 landscape o'er. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 January 26. 
 Earth has a joy unknown in Heaven — 
 The new-born peace of sin forgiven! 
 Tears of such pure and deep delight, 
 Ye angels! never dimmed your sight. 
 
 A. L. Hill house. 
 
 [9] 
 
 
 J 
 
s 
 
 January 27. 
 
 Life is real! Life is earnest! 
 And the grave is not its goal; 
 "Dust thou art, to dust returnest," 
 Was not spoken of the soul. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 January 28. 
 
 If singing breath or echoing chord 
 To every hidden pang were given, 
 
 What endless melodies were poured, 
 As sad as earth, as sweet as heaven ! 
 
 Holmes. 
 
 January 29. 
 
 Then, since we see about us sin and dole, 
 And some things good — why not, with 
 
 hand and soul, 
 Wrestle and succor out of wrong and sor- 
 row; 
 Grasping the swords of strife; 
 Making the most of life? 
 
 E. W. Ellsworth. 
 
 / 
 
 [10] 
 
O love Divine, that stooped to share 
 Our sharpest pang, our bitterest tear, 
 
 On Thee we cast each earth-born care, 
 We smile at pain while Thou art near! 
 
 Holmes. 
 
 January 31. 
 
 One sweetly solemn thought 
 
 Comes to me o'er and o'er; 
 I am nearer home to-day 
 1 Than I ever have been before. 
 
 Phoebe Cary. 
 
 / 
 
 February i. 
 
 Where is the heart that doth not keep 
 
 Within its inmost core, 
 Some fond remembrance, hidden deep, 
 
 Of days that are no more? 
 
 E. C. Howarth. 
 
 [ii] 
 
 V 
 
 J 
 
May my soul attuned be 
 To that perfect harmony, 
 Which, beyond the power of sound. 
 Fills the universe around. 
 
 W. H. Furness. 
 
 \ 
 
 February 3. 
 
 Nor knowest thou what argument 
 Thy life to thy neighbor's creed has lent. 
 All are needed by each one; 
 Nothing is fair or good alone. 
 
 Emerson. 
 February 4. 
 
 May Thy rich grace impart 
 Strength to my fainting heart, 
 
 My zeal inspire; 
 As Thou hast died for me, 
 O may my love for Thee 
 Pure, warm and changeless be — 
 
 A living fire! 
 
 R. Palmer. 
 
 / 
 
 [12] 
 
american poets 
 
 February 5. 
 They only the victory win 
 Who have fought the good fight . . . 
 Who have held to their faith unseduced 
 
 • • • 
 
 Who have dared for a high cause to 
 suffer, resist, fight' — if need be, to 
 
 die. 
 
 W. W. Story. 
 
 February 6. 
 We may build more splendid habitations, 
 Fill our rooms with paintings and with 
 sculptures, 
 But we cannot 
 Buy with gold the old associations. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 February 7. 
 
 Daily struggling, though unloved and 
 lonely; 
 
 Every day a rich reward will give; 
 Thou wilt find, by hearty striving only, 
 
 And truly loving, thou canst truly live. 
 
 H. W. Sewall. 
 [iaj 
 
 I 
 
 T&JS 
 
\ 
 
 Mid pleasures and palaces though we 
 
 may roam, 
 Be it ever so humble, there's no place like 
 
 home; 
 A charm from the sky seems to hallow 
 
 us there, 
 Which, seek through the world, is ne'er 
 
 met with elsewhere. 
 
 J. H. Payne. 
 
 February 9. 
 
 What is excellent, 
 As God lives, is permanent; 
 Hearts are dust, hearts' loves remain; 
 Heart's love will meet thee again. 
 
 Emerson. 
 
 February 10. 
 
 The first secret of continued power 
 
 Is the continued conquest: all our sway 
 
 Hath surety in the uses of the hour. 
 
 W. G. Simms. 
 
 [14] 
 
 / 
 
 V 
 
 J 
 
February ii. 
 Love gives itself, but is not bought; 
 Nor voice nor sound betrays 
 Its deep, impassioned gaze. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 February 12. 
 No matter how barren the past may have 
 
 been, 
 'Tis enough for us now that the leaves 
 are green. T „ 
 
 Lowell. 
 
 February 13. 
 And the night shall be filled with music, 
 
 And the cares that infest the day 
 Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs, 
 And as silently steal away. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 February 14. 
 Dearer than the words that hide 
 
 The love abiding, 
 Are the words that fondly chide, 
 When love needs chiding. 
 
 B. Taylor. 
 
 [15] 
 
 / 
 
Firm, united, let us be, 
 Rallying round our liberty; 
 As a band of brothers joined, 
 Peace and safety we shall find. 
 
 /. Hopkinson. 
 
 \ 
 
 February 16. 
 
 Go forth, under the open sky, and list 
 To Nature's teachings, while from all 
 
 around — 
 Earth and her waters and the depths of 
 
 air — 
 Comes a still voice. 
 
 Bryant. 
 
 February 17. 
 
 Patience! accomplish thy labor; accom- 
 plish thy work of affection. 
 
 Sorrow and silence are strong, and pa- 
 tient endurance is godlike. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 [16] 
 
I love, by faith, to take a view 
 Of brighter scenes in Heaven; 
 
 The prospect doth my strength renew, 
 While here by tempests driven. 
 
 P. H. Brown. 
 
 February 19. 
 
 The good deed, through the ages 
 Living in historic pages, 
 Brighter grows and gleams immortal, 
 Unconsumed by moth or rust. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 t 
 
 February 20. 
 
 Soon rested those who fought; but thou 
 Who minglest in the harder strife 
 
 For truths which men receive not now, 
 Thy warfare only ends with life. 
 
 Bryant. 
 
 [17] 
 
 V 
 
 J 
 
Thou, whose all-pervading eye 
 Naught escapes, without, within, 
 
 Pardon each infirmity, 
 Open fault and secret sin. 
 
 G. W. Doane. 
 
 \ 
 
 February 22. 
 
 I still would bless my fellow men, 
 And trust them, though deceived again. 
 God help me still to kindly view 
 The world that I am passing through. 
 
 L. M. Child. 
 
 February 23. 
 
 If eyes were made for seeing, 
 Then Beauty is its own excuse for being. 
 
 Emerson. 
 
 [18] 
 
Yet, in the maddening maze of things, 
 And tossed by storm and flood, 
 
 To one fixed trust my spirit clings — 
 I know that God is good. 
 
 Whittier. 
 
 February 25. 
 
 The most of you (this is what strikes all 
 beholders) 
 
 Have a mental and physical stoop in the 
 shoulders: 
 
 Though you ought to be free as the winds 
 and the waves, 
 
 You've the gait and the manners of run- 
 away slaves. 
 
 Lowell. 
 
 t 
 
 February 26. 
 
 Gentleness and Love and Trust 
 Prevail o'er angry wave and gust. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
> 
 
 V 
 
 February 27. 
 
 Poor indeed thou must be, if around thee 
 
 Thou no ray of light and joy canst 
 
 throw — 
 
 If no silken cord of love hath bound thee 
 
 To some little world through weal and 
 
 WOe ' W. H. Sewall. 
 
 February 28. 
 
 The heights by great men reached and 
 
 kept 
 
 Were not attained by sudden flight, 
 
 But they, while their companions slept, 
 
 Were toiling upward in the night. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 February 29. 
 Hast then no faith? Thine is the fault. 
 What prophets, heroes, sages, saints 
 Have loved, on thee still makes assault, 
 Thee with immortal things acquaints. 
 On life then seize; 
 Doubt is disease. 
 
 J. L. Spalding. 
 
 [20] 
 
 J 
 
March i. 
 'Tis not by guilt the onward sweep 
 
 Of truth and right, O Lord, we stay; 
 'Tis by our follies that so long 
 We hold the earth from heaven away. 
 
 E. R. Sill. 
 
 March 2. 
 O tuneful lark! . . 
 
 Sweet rose ! 
 
 Sing, bloom, because ye must, and not 
 
 for praise. 
 If only we, who covet the fair boon 
 Of well-earned fame, and wonder where 
 
 it lies, 
 Would read the secret in your simple 
 
 wavs! 
 
 J C. A. Mason. 
 
 March 3. 
 It cannot be that He who made 
 
 This wondrous world for our delight, 
 Designed that all its charms should fade 
 And pass forever from our sight. 
 
 D. B. Sickels. 
 
 [21] 
 
 / 
 
 V 
 
 *5W) 
 
It may be He keeps waiting, for the com- 
 ing of my feet, 
 
 Some gift of such rare blessedness, some 
 joy so strangely sweet, 
 
 That my lips shall only tremble with the 
 thanks they cannot speak. 
 
 M. G. Brainard. 
 
 \ 
 
 March 5. 
 
 For the structure that we raise 
 Time is with materials filled: 
 
 Our to-days and yesterdays 
 
 Are the blocks with which we build. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 
 V 
 
 March 6. 
 
 Of all our good, of all our bad, 
 This one thing only is of worth — 
 We held the league of heart to heart 
 The only purpose of the earth. 
 
 R. Hovey. 
 
 [22] 
 
 J 
 
March 7. 
 
 Toiling, — rejoicing, — sorrowing, 
 Onward through life he goes ; 
 
 Each morning sees some task begin, 
 Each evening sees its close; 
 
 Something attempted, something done, 
 Has earned a night's repose. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 March 8. 
 
 Eyes let me be to groping men and blind ; 
 A conscience to the base ; and to the weak 
 Let me be hands and feet; and to the 
 
 foolish, mind; 
 And lead still further on such as Thy 
 
 kingdom seek. 
 
 T. Parker. 
 March 9. 
 
 Sweet hearts around us throb and beat, 
 Sweet helping hands are stirred, 
 
 And palpitates the veil between 
 With breathings almost heard. 
 
 H. E. B. Stowe. 
 
 [23] 
 
 / 
 
 cw 
 
 v^) 
 
In outskirts of Thy kingdoms vast, 
 Father, the humblest spot give me; 
 
 Set me the lowliest task Thou hast; 
 Let me, repentant, work for Thee! 
 
 H. F. Jackson. 
 
 \ 
 
 March ii. 
 
 Mark thou their difference, child of 
 earth ! 
 While each performs his part, 
 Not all the Lip can speak is worth 
 The silence of the Heart. 
 
 J. Q. Adams. 
 
 March 12. 
 
 Did we but use it as we ought, 
 This world would school each wand'ring 
 thought 
 To its high state. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 [24] 
 
Hearts are dust, hearts' loves remain; 
 Heart's love will meet thee again. 
 
 Emerson. 
 
 March 14. 
 
 Whither my heart has gone, there fol- 
 lows my hand and not elsewhere; 
 
 For, when the heart goes before, like a 
 lamp, and illumines the pathway, 
 
 Many things are made clear that else lie 
 hidden in darkness. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 March 15. 
 
 The man who frets at worldly strife 
 Grows sallow, sour and thin; 
 
 Give us the lad whose happy life 
 Is one perpetual grin. 
 
 /. R. Drake. 
 
 [25] 
 
s 
 
 March 16. 
 
 All shall come back; each tie 
 Of pure affection shall be knit again; 
 
 Alone shall evil die, 
 And sorrow dwell a prisoner in thy reign. 
 
 Bryant. 
 March 17. 
 
 Like summer's beam, and summer's 
 stream. 
 
 Float on, in joy, to meet 
 A calmer sea, where storms shall cease — 
 
 A purer sky, where all is peace. 
 
 J. G. C. Br ainar d. 
 
 March 18. 
 Still flows the fount whose waters 
 strengthen thee, 
 The victor's names are yet too few to 
 fill 
 Heaven's mighty roll; the glorious 
 armory 
 That ministered to thee, is open still. 
 
 Bryant. 
 
 [26] 
 
Better is childhood's thoughtless trust 
 Than manhood's daring scorn; 
 
 The fear that creeps along the dust 
 Than doubt in hearts forlorn. 
 
 T. D. Woolsey. 
 
 \ 
 
 March 20. 
 
 Affections are as thoughts to her, 
 The measures of her hours; 
 
 Her feelings have the fragrancy, 
 The freshness of young flowers. 
 
 E. C. Pinkney. 
 
 ( 
 
 March 21. 
 
 In the world's broad field of battle, 
 
 In the bivouac of Life, 
 Be not like dumb, driven cattle! 
 
 Be a hero in the strife! 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 [27] 
 
Let them that dwell within the gates of 
 
 light, 
 And them that sit on thrones — let seraphs 
 
 hear — 
 Let laurelled saints and let all angels 
 
 hear — 
 A human soul knows and adores its God! 
 
 W. W. Lord. 
 
 \ 
 
 March 23. 
 
 The spirit-world around this world of 
 
 sense 
 I Floats like an atmosphere, and every- 
 where 
 Wafts through these earthly mists and 
 vapors dense 
 A vital breath of more ethereal air. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 / 
 
 [28] 
 

 american poets 
 
 March 24. 
 
 Build thee more stately mansions, O my 
 soul, 
 As the swift seasons roll ! 
 
 Holmes. 
 
 \ 
 
 March 25. 
 
 Do the portals of another life 
 Even now, while I am glorying in my 
 
 strength, 
 Impend around me? 
 
 Bryant. 
 
 March 26. 
 
 Thou truest friend man ever knew, 
 
 Thy constancy I've tried; 
 Where all were false I found thee true, 
 
 My counsellor and guide. 
 
 G. P. Morris. 
 
 / 
 
 *S*J} 
 
March 27. 
 Know this, O man! whate'er thy earthly 
 
 fate — 
 God never made a tyrant nor a slave: 
 Woe, then, to those who dare to dese- 
 crate 
 His glorious image! — for to all He gave 
 Eternal rights, which none may violate. 
 
 W. L. Garrison. 
 
 \ 
 
 March 28. 
 To do is to succeed — our fight 
 Is waged in Heaven's approving sight — 
 The smile of God is victory! 
 
 Whlttier. 
 March 29. 
 Plainly, this world is not a scope for bliss, 
 But duty. Yet we see not all that is, 
 Nor may be, some day, if we love the 
 light. 
 What man is, in desires, 
 Whispers where man aspires. 
 
 E. W. Ellsworth. 
 
 / 
 
 [30] 
 
\ 
 
 March 30. 
 
 So clear I see that things I thought 
 Were right or harmless were a sin; 
 
 So clear I see that I have sought, 
 Unconscious, selfish aims to win. 
 
 H. F. Jackson. 
 
 March 31. 
 
 Backward, turn backward, O Time, in 
 
 your flight, 
 Make me a child again, just for to-night! 
 Mother, come back from the echoless 
 
 shore, 
 Take me again to your heart as of yore. 
 
 E. A. Allen. 
 
 April i. 
 
 Her soft hand put aside the assaults of 
 wrath, 
 And calmly broke in twain 
 The fiery shafts of pain, 
 And rent the nets of passion from her 
 path. 
 
 Bryant. 
 
 [31] 
 
 I 
 
 V 
 
 J 
 
s 
 
 american poets 
 
 April 2. 
 
 How blest to age the impulse given, 
 
 The hope time ne'er destroys, 
 Which led our thoughts from earth to 
 heaven 
 When you and I were boys! 
 
 G. P. Morris. 
 
 April 3. 
 Thus at the flaming forge of life 
 
 Our fortunes must be wrought; 
 Thus on its sounding anvil shaped 
 
 Each burning deed and thought! 
 
 Longfellow. 
 April 4. 
 Give me, Lord, eyes to behold the 
 truth, 
 A seeing sense that knows the eternal 
 
 right; 
 A heart with pity filled, and gentlest 
 
 ruth; 
 A manly faith that makes all darkness 
 
 1J S ht " T. Parker. 
 
s 
 
 April 5. 
 
 No lore of Greece or Rome, 
 No science peddling with the names of 
 
 things, 
 Or reading stars to find inglorious fates, 
 Can lift our life with wings. 
 
 Lowell. 
 
 April 6. 
 
 Old letters, stained . . . 
 Once kissed, perhaps, or tear-wet — 
 who may know? 
 I turn a page like one who plans a crime, 
 And lo! love's prophecies and sweet 
 regrets. 
 
 E. A. Allen. 
 
 / 
 
 April 7. 
 
 The tidal wave of deeper souls 
 Into our inmost being rolls, 
 
 And lifts us, unawares, 
 
 Out of all meaner cares. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
s 
 
 God help us all to kindly view 
 The world that we are passing through! 
 
 L. M. Child. 
 
 April 9. 
 
 Our faults no tenderness should ask, 
 The chastening stripes must cleanse 
 them all ; 
 But for our blunders — Oh, in shame 
 Before the eyes of Heaven we fall! 
 
 E. R. Sill. 
 
 April 10. 
 
 God keep you then when slumber melts 
 away, 
 And care and strife 
 Take up new arms to fret our waking 
 life, 
 God keep you through the battle of the 
 day. 
 
 M. A. De Vere. 
 
 ( 
 
 [34] 
 
\ 
 
 Faith wings the soul beyond the sky, 
 Up to that better world on high 
 For which we wait. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 April 12. 
 
 I long for household voices gone, 
 
 For vanished smiles I long, 
 But God hath led my dear ones on, 
 
 And He can do no wrong. 
 
 Whittier. 
 
 April 13. 
 
 I would joy in your joy: let me have a 
 
 friend's part 
 In the warmth of your welcome of hand 
 
 and of heart. 
 
 Whittier. 
 
 > 
 
 [35] 
 
s 
 
 April 14. 
 Sweet names, the rosary of my evening 
 
 prayer, 
 
 Told on my lips like kisses of good-night 
 
 To friends who go a little from my sight, 
 
 And some through distant years shine 
 
 clear and fair. _ „ „. „ 
 
 G. h. troodberry. 
 
 April 15. 
 The world hath sorrow, nothing more, 
 
 To give or keep for thee ; 
 Duty is in that hidden flame, 
 And soaring joy: then rise for shame 
 
 That thou so dark shouldst be. 
 
 5. P. McL. Greene. 
 
 April 16. 
 Be ye in love with April-tide? 
 I' faith, in love am I! 
 For now 'tis sun and now 'tis shower, 
 And now 'tis frost and now 'tis flower, 
 And now 'tis Laura laughing-eyed 
 And now 'tis Laura shy. 
 
 C. Scollard. 
 
 / 
 
 [36] 
 
V 
 
 american poets 
 
 April 17. 
 
 And if he should come again 
 In the old glad way, 
 
 • • ? 
 I should close my eyes and smile, 
 And my soul would be 
 Like the peace of summer noons 
 Beside the sea. 
 
 R. Hovey. 
 April 18. 
 
 With love she vanquished hate and over- 
 came 
 
 Evil with good, in her Great Master's 
 name. 
 
 Bryant. 
 April 19. 
 
 A woman, of her gentle sex 
 
 The seeming paragon; 
 To whom the better elements 
 
 And kindly stars have given 
 A form so fair, that, like the air, 
 
 'Tis less of earth than heaven. 
 
 E. C. Pinkney. 
 
s 
 
 There is an hour of peaceful rest 
 To mourning wanderers given! 
 There is a joy for souls distrest, 
 A balm for every wounded breast: 
 Tis found alone in Heaven. 
 
 W. B. Tappan. 
 
 April 21. 
 
 Not enjoyment, and not sorrow, 
 Is our destined end or way; 
 
 But to act, that each to-morrow 
 Finds us farther than to-day. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 April 22. 
 
 No more, no more 
 
 The worldly shore 
 Upbraids me with its loud uproar: 
 
 With dreamful eyes 
 
 My spirit lies 
 Under the walls of Paradise! 
 
 T. B. Read. 
 
 f 
 
s 
 
 O restless, homeless human soul, 
 
 Following for aye thy nameless quest, 
 
 The gulls float and the billows roll : 
 Thou watchest still, and questionest: 
 Where is thy mate, and where thy nest? 
 
 E. A. Allen. 
 
 April 24. 
 
 Seize the great thought, ere yet its power 
 
 be past, 
 And bind, in words, the fleet emotion 
 
 fast. 
 
 Bryant. 
 April 25. 
 
 Misfortune to have lived not knowing 
 thee! 
 
 'Twere not high living, nor to noblest 
 end, 
 
 Who, dwelling near, learned not sin- 
 cerity. 
 
 A. B. Alcott. 
 
 [39] 
 
 / 
 
 (Wtr 
 
 t^) 
 
O give me back a world of life, 
 Something to love and trust, 
 
 Something to quench my inward strife 
 And lift me from the dust! 
 
 T. D. Woolsey. 
 
 \ 
 
 April 27. 
 
 Her every tone is music's own, 
 Like those of morning birds, 
 
 And something more than melody 
 Dwells ever in her words. 
 
 E. C. Pinkney. 
 
 April 28. 
 
 Trust no Future, however pleasant! 
 
 Let the dead Past bury its dead! 
 Act — act in the living Present! 
 
 Heart within, and God o'erhead! 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 [40] 
 
\ 
 
 In the silent west, 
 Many sails at rest, 
 
 Their anchors fast; 
 Thither I pilot thee — 
 Land, ho! Eternity! 
 Ashore at last! 
 
 E. Dickinson. 
 
 April 30. 
 
 Father, I scarcely dare to pray, 
 So clear I see, now it is done, 
 
 That I have wasted half my day, 
 And left my work but just begun. 
 
 H. F. Jackson. 
 
 May 1. 
 
 Truth, crushed to earth, shall rise again ; 
 
 The eternal years of God are hers; 
 But Error, wounded, writhes in pain, 
 
 And dies among his worshippers. 
 
 Bryant. 
 
 tW) 
 
s 
 
 May 2. 
 Seeking me Thy worn feet hasted, 
 On the cross Thy soul death tasted: 
 Let such travail not be wasted! 
 
 A. Coles. 
 
 May 3. 
 
 Lives of great men all remind us 
 We can make our lives sublime, 
 
 And, departing, leave behind us 
 Footprints on the sands of time. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 May 4. 
 
 Shall the years 
 Push me, with soft and inoffensive pace, 
 Into the stilly twilight of my age? 
 
 Bryant. 
 May. 5. 
 For a cap and bells our lives we pay, 
 Bubbles we buy with a whole soul's 
 tasking: 
 'Tis Heaven alone that is given away, 
 'Tis only God may be had for the asking. 
 
 Lowell. 
 
 [42] 
 
 / 
 
s 
 
 I have grown weary of dust and decay, 
 Weary of flinging my soul-wealth away ; 
 Weary of sowing for others to reap : 
 Reck me to sleep, mother — Rock me to 
 sleep ! 
 
 E. A. Allen. 
 
 May 7. 
 
 Not 
 
 Love is life, but hatred is death. 
 
 father nor mother 
 Loved you as God has loved you; for 
 
 'twas that you may be happy 
 Gave He His only Son. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 May 8. 
 
 I know not where His islands lift 
 
 Their fronded palms in air; 
 I only know I cannot drift 
 
 Beyond His love and care. 
 
 Whittier. 
 
 im 
 
 
 (\su 
 
 <j^!) 
 
AMERICAN POETS 
 
 May 9. 
 
 Let us, then, be up and doing, 
 
 With a heart for any fate ; 
 Still achieving, still pursuing, 
 
 Learn to labor and to wait. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 \ 
 
 May 10. 
 
 I hearing get, who had but ears, 
 And sight, who had but eyes before; 
 I moments live, who lived but years, 
 And truth discern, who knew but learn- 
 ing's lore. 
 
 H. D. Thoreau. 
 
 I 
 
 May 11. 
 
 They are slaves who dare not be 
 In the right with two or three. 
 
 Lowell. 
 
 [44] 
 
 V 
 
 J 
 
s 
 
 So clear I see that I have hurt 
 
 The souls I might have helped to save ; 
 That I have slothful been, inert, 
 
 Deaf to the calls Thy leaders gave. 
 
 H. F. Jackson. 
 
 May 13. 
 
 . . . Let me, singing, sit apart 
 
 In tender quiet with a few, 
 And keep my fame upon my heart — 
 
 A little blush-rose wet with dew. 
 
 S. M. B. Piatt. 
 
 May 14. 
 
 What sin and shame that hindrance may 
 forefend 
 
 Which we so hate and storm against to- 
 day! 
 
 What mighty evils over all impend, 
 
 Averted graciously by kind delay. 
 
 C. F. Bates. 
 
 V 
 
 J 
 
s 
 
 american poets 
 
 May 15. 
 
 Earth bears no balsam for mistakes: 
 Men crown the knave, and scourge the 
 tool 
 That did his will; but Thou, O Lord, 
 Be merciful to me, a fool! 
 
 E. R. Sill. 
 
 May 16. 
 God keep you, dearest, all this lonely 
 night: 
 The winds are still, 
 The moon drops down behind the west- 
 ern hill; 
 God keep you safely, dearest, till the 
 light. 
 
 M. A. De Vere. 
 
 May 17. 
 "Now I lay me down to sleep: 
 I pray the Lord my soul to keep," 
 Was my childhood's early prayer, 
 Taught by my mother's love and care. 
 
 E. H. Pullen. 
 
 [46] 
 
 V 
 
 J 
 
Let us do our work as well — 
 Both the unseen and the seen; 
 
 Make the house where gods may dwell 
 Beautiful, entire and clean. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 \ 
 
 May 19. 
 
 And Thou, O Lord, by whom are seen — 
 
 Thy creatures as they be, 
 Forgive me if too close I lean 
 
 My human heart on Thee! 
 
 JVhittier. 
 
 / 
 
 May 20. 
 
 The highest thoughts no utterance find, 
 
 The holiest hope is dumb, 
 In silence grows the immortal mind, 
 
 And speechless deep joys come. 
 
 /. L. Spalding. 
 
 [47] 
 
AMERICAN POETS 
 
 May 21. 
 
 \ 
 
 Maiden, that read'st this simple rhyme, 
 Enjoy thy youth — it will not stay; 
 
 Enjoy the fragrance of thy prime, 
 For O, it is not always May! 
 
 Longfellow. 
 May 22. 
 They have not perished — no! — 
 Kind words, remembered voices once so 
 sweet, 
 Smiles, radiant long ago, 
 And features, the great soul's apparent 
 
 Seat. W. C. Bryant. 
 
 May 23. 
 O Holy Jesus, Prince of Peace and Sav- 
 iour, 
 To Thee we owe the peace that still 
 prevails, 
 Stilling the rude wills of men's wild be- 
 havior, 
 And calming passion's fierce and 
 stormy gales. w. C. Doane. 
 
 f 
 
 [48] 
 
s 
 
 May 24. 
 
 Through Christ, O Lord, I pray Thee 
 
 give to me 
 Not what I would, but what seems best 
 
 to Thee 
 Of life, of health, of service and of 
 
 strength, 
 Until to Thy full joy I come at length. 
 My prayer shall then avail, 
 The blessing shall not fail. 
 
 C. F. Richardson. 
 
 May 25. 
 
 I cannot stand before the thought of 
 
 thee, 
 Infinite Fulness of Eternity! 
 
 So close that all the outlines of the 
 land 
 Are lost: in the inflowing of thy sea 
 I cannot stand. 
 
 P. H. Savage. 
 
 f 
 
 [49] 
 
AMERICAN POETS 
 
 May 26. 
 
 Dear, if you love me, hold me most your 
 
 friend, 
 Chosen from out the many who would 
 
 bear 
 Your gladness gladly — heavily your 
 
 S 
 
 Who best can sympathize, best compre- 
 hend, 
 Where others fail. 
 
 A. D. Miller. 
 
 May 27. 
 
 "Thou art a fool," said my head to my 
 
 heart — 
 "Indeed, the greatest of fools thou art 
 To be led astray by the trick of a tress, 
 By a smiling face or a ribbon smart;" 
 And my heart was in sore distress. 
 
 P. L. Dunbar. 
 
 f 
 
 [50] 
 
AMERICAN POETS 
 
 May 28. 
 
 S 
 
 Nothing useless is or low, 
 
 Each thing in its place is best; 
 
 And what seems but idle show 
 Strengthens and supports the rest. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 May 29. 
 
 Loving as myself my fellow man — 
 Thus clearest shall I show my love to 
 God. 
 
 l W. L. Garrison. 
 
 May 30. 
 
 Fold up the banners! Smelt the guns! 
 Love rules. Her gentler purpose runs. 
 A mighty mother turns in tears 
 The pages of her battle years, 
 Lamenting all her fallen sons! 
 
 W. H. Thompson. 
 
 t 
 
 [51] 
 
 V 
 
 J 
 
AMERICAN POETS 
 
 May 3i. 
 
 Her air, her face, each charm 
 Must speak a heart with feeling warm, 
 
 And mind inform the whole ; 
 With mind her mantling cheek must 
 
 glow, 
 Her voice, her beaming eye, must show 
 An all-inspiring soul. 
 
 L. Frisbw. 
 
 \ 
 
 June i. 
 
 'Tis true, one half of woman's life is hope 
 And one half resignation. Between 
 
 there lies 
 Anguish of broken dreams — doubt, dire 
 
 surprise, 
 And then is born the strength with all to 
 
 cope. 
 
 M. A. Townsend. 
 
 [52] 
 
 V 
 
 J 
 
June 2. 
 
 Every little brown bird that doth sing 
 Hath something greater than itself, and 
 
 bears 
 A living Word to every living thing. 
 Albeit it hold the Message unawares. 
 
 R. Realf. 
 
 June 3. 
 
 Wish what the Holy One wishes, and not 
 
 from fear, but affection ; 
 Fear is the virtue of slaves, but the heart 
 
 that loveth is willing. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 June 4 
 
 Thus we sail without care or sorrow, 
 With trust for to-day and hope for to- 
 morrow. 
 
 S. W. Duffield. 
 
 [58] 
 
 V 
 
 J 
 
It cannot be that, after all 
 
 The mighty conquests of the mind, 
 Our thoughts shall pass beyond recall 
 
 And leave no record here behind. 
 
 D. B. Sickels. 
 
 \ 
 
 June 6. 
 
 Some day, glad, but wondering not, 
 We two shall meet and, face to face, 
 In still, fair fields unseen as yet, 
 
 Shall talk of each old time and place. 
 
 S. C. Woolsey. 
 
 June 7. 
 
 Comrade-love is as a welding blast 
 Of candid flame and ardent temperature; 
 Glowing most fervent, it doth bind more 
 
 fast; 
 And melting both, but makes the union 
 
 sure. 
 
 J. J. Roche. 
 
 [54] 
 
american poets 
 
 June 8. 
 
 Fail not in the greater trial, 
 Faint not in the harder struggle. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 June 9. 
 The wreck, the roar, the murk, the glare 
 Were nought to her; she simply knew 
 God's broken images were there 
 
 Where healing hands were few. 
 
 C. Hick ox. 
 
 June 10. 
 To which of us doth greater joy belong? 
 He hath his love ; but I — I have my song. 
 
 S. M. Spalding. 
 
 June ii. 
 You came — one look — no word was 
 spoken, 
 Our hands, once clasped, forgot to 
 part, 
 And though our silence is unbroken, 
 Heart has found rest on heart. 
 
 L. C. Perry. 
 
 [55] 
 
 i 
 
s 
 
 Nor deem the irrevocable Past 
 As wholly wasted, wholly vain, 
 
 If, rising on its wrecks, at last 
 To something nobler we attain. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 June 13. 
 "Give me a fillet, love," quoth I, 
 "To bind my Sweeting's heart to me, 
 So ne'er a chance of earth or sky 
 Shall part us ruthlessly." . . . 
 "A fillet, boy!" 
 Love said — "Here's Joy." 
 
 J. M. Lippmann. 
 
 June 14. 
 Let others delight mid new pleasures to 
 
 roam, 
 But give me, O give me the pleasures of 
 home! 
 Home! Home! sweet, sweet Home! 
 There's no place like Home! there's no 
 place like Home! 
 
 J. H. Payne. 
 
 [56] 
 
 V 
 
 / 
 
 J 
 
AMERICAN POETS 
 
 June 15. 
 
 Arouse, my soul! 
 Slumber control, 
 And let thy lamp burn brightly; 
 
 So shall thine eyes discern 
 Things pure and sightly; 
 Taught by the Spirit, learn 
 Never on prayerless bed 
 To lay thine unblest head. 
 
 M. Mercer. 
 
 June 16. 
 While life's dark maze I tread, 
 And griefs around me spread, 
 
 Be Thou my guide; 
 Bid darkness turn to day, 
 Wipe sorrow's tears away, 
 Nor let me ever stray 
 From Thee aside. 
 
 R. Palmer. 
 
 June 17. 
 Do not fear! Heaven is as near 
 ... By water as by land. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 [57] 
 
 / 
 
 V 
 
 J 
 
June 18. 
 
 Many loved Truth . . 
 
 Those love her best who to themselves 
 
 are true, 
 And what they dare to dream of, dare to 
 
 do. 
 
 Lowell. 
 
 \ 
 
 June 19. 
 
 Be strong, be good, be pure! 
 
 The right only shall endure: 
 All things else are but false pretences. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 f 
 
 June 20. 
 
 I dimly guess, from blessings known, 
 
 Of greater out of sight; 
 And with the chastened Psalmist own 
 
 His judgments too are right. 
 
 Whittier. 
 
 [58] 
 
american poets 
 
 June 21. 
 
 If thou wouldst read a lesson that will 
 
 keep 
 Thy heart from fainting and thy soul 
 
 from sleep, 
 Go to the woods and hills! — No tears 
 Dim the sweet look that Nature wears. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 \ 
 
 June 22. 
 
 He that worketh high and wise, 
 Nor pauses in His plan; 
 Will take the sun out of the skies 
 Ere freedom out of man. 
 
 Emerson. 
 
 f 
 
 June 23. 
 
 Tell me not, in mournful numbers, 
 Life is but an empty dream! 
 
 For the soul is dead that slumbers, 
 And things are not what they seem. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 [59] 
 
\ 
 
 June 24. 
 
 But what and where are we? — what now 
 
 — to-day? 
 Souls on a globe that spins our lives 
 
 away, 
 A multitudinous world, where heaven 
 
 and hell, 
 
 Strangely in battle met, 
 
 Their gonfalons have set. 
 
 E. W. Ellsworth. 
 
 June 25. 
 
 He danced along the dingy days, 
 And this bequest of wings 
 Was but a Book. What liberty 
 A loosened spirit brings! 
 
 E. Dickinson. 
 
 / 
 
 [60] 
 
June 26. 
 
 Hands still clasp hands, eyes still reflect 
 
 their own; 
 Yet had one over universes flown, 
 So far each heart hath from the other 
 
 grown, 
 Alone were less alone. 
 
 M. G. Dickinson. 
 
 \ 
 
 June 27. 
 
 He who hath loved hath borne a vassal's 
 
 chain, 
 And worn the royal purple of a king; 
 
 His restless soul hath burned with flames 
 
 of Hell, 
 And winged through ever-blooming 
 
 fields of Heaven. 
 
 W. Malone. 
 
 t 
 
 [61] 
 
\ 
 
 June 28. 
 Let us greet, O king, 
 
 As we pass along: 
 He, too, is a king 
 To whom God giveth song. 
 
 A. R. Aldrkh. 
 
 June 29. 
 The heart soars up like a bird 
 
 From a nest of care; 
 Up, up to a larger sky, 
 
 To a softer air. 
 No eye can measure its flight 
 
 And no hand can tame; 
 It mounts in beauty and light, 
 
 In music and flame. 
 
 D. R. Goodale. 
 
 June 30. 
 Build to-day, then, strong and sure, 
 
 With a firm and ample base; 
 And ascending and secure 
 
 Shall to-morrow find its place. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 / 
 
 [62] 
 
Beside my road small tasks spring up, 
 Though but to hand the cooling cup, 
 Speak the true word of hearty cheer, 
 Tell the lone soul that God is near. 
 
 L. J. Hall. 
 
 July 2. 
 
 Whene'er a noble deed is wrought, 
 Whene'er is spoken a noble thought, 
 
 Our hearts, in glad surprise, 
 
 To higher levels rise. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 t 
 
 July 3. 
 
 For she to many spirits gave 
 A reverence for the true, the pure, 
 
 The perfect — that has power to save 
 And make the doubting sure. 
 
 J. H. Perkins. 
 
 [63] 
 
s 
 
 July 4. 
 
 And this be our motto — "In God is our 
 
 trust": 
 And the star-spangled banner in triumph 
 
 shall wave 
 O'er the land of the free and the home of 
 
 the brave. 
 
 F. S. Key. 
 
 July 5. 
 
 Love, Thought and Deed forever flow 
 Forth from one fountain in the human 
 soul. 
 
 J. F. Clarke.. 
 July 6. 
 
 I laugh at the lore and pride of man, 
 
 At the sophist schools and the learned 
 clan; 
 
 For what are they all in their high con- 
 ceit, 
 
 When man in the bush with God may 
 meet? 
 
 Emerson. 
 
 / 
 
s 
 
 July 7. 
 
 Downhill the path of Age? Oh no! 
 Up, up with patient steps I go; 
 I watch the skies fast brightening 
 
 there, 
 I breathe a sweeter, purer air. 
 
 L. J. Hall. 
 
 July 8. 
 
 She met the hosts of Sorrow with a look 
 That altered not beneath the frown 
 they wore, 
 And soon the lowering brood were tamed, 
 and took, 
 Meekly, her gentle rule, and frowned 
 no more. 
 
 Bryant. 
 July 9. 
 
 Of her bright face one glance will trace 
 
 A picture on the brain, 
 And of her voice in echoing hearts 
 
 A sound must long remain. 
 
 E. C. Pinkney. 
 
 [66] 
 
 / 
 
 V 
 
 J 
 
I strive to learn humility, 
 And trust in Him who rules above, 
 Whose universal law is Love. 
 Thus only can I kindly view 
 The world that I am passing through. 
 
 L. M. Child. 
 
 \ 
 
 July ii. 
 
 Lowly faithful, banish fear, 
 
 Right onward drive unharmed; 
 
 The port, well worth the cruise, is near, 
 
 And every wave is charmed. 
 
 Emerson. 
 
 
 July 12. 
 
 Being born to battles, fight we must; 
 Under which ensign is our only choice. 
 
 We know to wage our best; 
 
 God only knows the rest. 
 
 E. W. Ellsworth. 
 
 [66] 
 
s 
 
 Thou shalt share 
 The prophet-joy that kept forever glad 
 God's poet-souls when all a world was 
 sad. 
 
 S. W. Mitchell 
 
 July 14. 
 
 The world of the affections is thy world — 
 Not that of man's ambition. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 July 15. 
 
 Faith lifts up her cheerful eye, 
 To brighter prospects given; 
 And views the tempest passing by, 
 The evening shadows quickly fly, 
 And all serene in Heaven. 
 
 W. B. Tappan. 
 
 / 
 
 [67] 
 
Hast thou . . . unarmed, faced dan- 
 ger with a heart of trust? 
 
 And loved so well a high behavior, 
 
 In man or maid, that thou from speech 
 refrained, 
 
 Nobility more nobly to repay? 
 
 O, be my friend, and teach me to be 
 
 thine! 
 
 July 17. 
 
 My faith looks up to Thee, 
 Thou Lamb of Calvary, 
 
 Saviour divine! 
 Now hear me while I pray, 
 Take all my guilt away, 
 O let me from this day 
 
 Be wholly Thine ! 
 
 Emerson. 
 
 R. Palmer. 
 
 [68] 
 
 V 
 
 J 
 
\ 
 
 We shall sit beside the silver springs 
 That flow from God's own footstool, and 
 behold 
 Sages and martyrs, and those blessed 
 few 
 Who loved us once and were beloved of 
 old, 
 To dwell with them and walk with 
 them anew. 
 
 \T. WL. Parsons. 
 
 July 19. 
 
 Yea, all that we can wield is worth the 
 
 end, 
 If sought as God's and man's most loyal 
 
 friend; 
 Naked we come into the world, and take 
 Weapons of various skill: 
 Let us not use them ill. 
 
 E. W. Ellsworth. 
 
 f 
 
 [69] 
 
 (W*jr 
 
 UW) 
 
s 
 
 July 20. 
 
 Thou shalt abide in realms of poesy, 
 There soul hath touch of soul, and there 
 
 the great 
 Cast wide to welcome thee joy's golden 
 
 gate. 
 
 S. W. Mitchell. 
 
 July 21. 
 
 Work! — for some good, be it ever so 
 
 slowly ; 
 Cherish some flower, be it ever so lowly; 
 Labor! — all labor is noble and holy; 
 Let thy great deeds be thy prayer to thy 
 
 God. 
 
 F. S. Osgood. 
 
 July 22. 
 
 "Without haste, without rest:" 
 Bind the motto to thy breast; 
 Bear it with thee as a spell ; 
 Storm or sunshine, guard it well. 
 
 C. C. Cox. 
 
 f 
 
 [70] 
 
s 
 
 Thrust in thy sickle, nor delay 
 The work that calls for thee to-day; 
 To-morrow, if it come, will bear 
 Its own demands of toil and care. 
 
 W. H. Burleigh. 
 
 July 24. 
 
 When the soul to sin hath died, 
 True and beautiful and sound, 
 
 Then all earth is sanctified — 
 Up springs Paradise around. 
 
 Emerson. 
 
 July 25. 
 
 I do not believe the sad story 
 Of ages of sleep in the tomb; 
 
 I shall pass far away to the glory 
 And grandeur of Kingdom Come. 
 
 O. Curry. 
 
 ( 
 
 [71] 
 
 (W*7 
 
 ^ 
 
Ah! could I such a being find, 
 
 And were her fate to mine but joined 
 
 By Hymen's silken tie, 
 To her myself, my all I'd give, 
 For her alone delighted live, 
 
 For her consent to die. 
 
 L. Frisbie. 
 
 \ 
 
 July 27. 
 
 Leave behind us ... . 
 Footprints that perhaps another, 
 
 Sailing o'er life's solemn main, 
 A forlorn and shipwrecked brother, 
 
 Seeing, shall take heart again. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 J 
 
 [72] 
 
V 
 
 July 28. 
 Our loved and dead, if they should 
 come this day — 
 Should come and ask us, "What is life?" 
 
 — not one of us could say. 
 Life is a mystery as deep as ever death 
 
 can be; 
 Yet oh, how dear it is to us, this life we 
 live and see ! 
 
 M. M. Dodge. 
 
 July 29. 
 Heaven is open every day; 
 
 In night also 
 He that would wend his upward way 
 
 May surely go. 
 
 C. G. Whiting. 
 
 July 30. 
 Enjoy the spring of Love and Youth; 
 
 To some good angel leave the rest; 
 For time will teach thee soon the truth — 
 
 There are no birds in last year's nest. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 [73] 
 
 / 
 
s 
 
 Approve her way, but lead her to thine 
 own — 
 
 For learn, fond youth, wouldst thou es- 
 cape disaster, 
 
 That woman likes a slave — but loves a 
 master. 
 
 W. Young, 
 
 August i. 
 The happiest heart that ever beat 
 
 Was in some quiet breast 
 That found the common daylight sweet, 
 
 And left to Heaven the rest. 
 
 ' J. V . Cheney. 
 
 August 2. 
 He that is strong is stronger if he wear 
 Something of self beyond all human 
 
 clasp — 
 An inner self, behind unlifted folds 
 Of life, which men can touch not nor 
 
 lay bare. 
 
 M. A. Townsend. 
 
 / 
 
 [74] 
 
s 
 
 August 3. 
 A spirit broods among the grass; 
 Vague outlines of the Everlasting 
 
 Thought 
 Lie in the melting shadows as they pass; 
 The touch of an Eternal Presence thrills 
 The fringes of the sunset and the hills. 
 
 R. Realf. 
 
 August 4. 
 O God, our Father, if we had but truth! 
 
 Lost truth, — which thou perchance 
 Didst let man lose, lest all his wayward 
 youth 
 He waste in song and dance, 
 That he might gain, in searching, might- 
 ier powers. e. R. Sill. 
 
 August 5. 
 A breath can fan love's flame to burning, 
 
 Make firm resolve of trembling doubt. 
 But, strange! at fickle fancy's turning 
 
 The selfsame breath can blow it out. 
 
 M. A. De Vere. 
 
 [75] 
 
 / 
 
s 
 
 August 6. 
 From soul to soul the shortest line 
 
 At best will bended be: 
 The ship that holds the straightest course 
 
 Still sails the convex sea. 
 
 /. B. O'Reilly. 
 
 August 7. 
 Out of the dusk a shadow — 
 
 Then, a spark; 
 Out of the cloud a silence — 
 
 Then, a lark; 
 Out of the heart a rapture — 
 
 Then, a pain; 
 Out of the dead cold ashes — 
 
 Life again. 
 
 J. B. Tabb. 
 August 8. 
 The present hour allots thy task: 
 For present strength and patience ask, 
 And trust His love whose sure supplies 
 Meet all thy needs as they arise. 
 
 W. H. Burleigh. 
 
 [76] 
 
 / 
 
 V 
 
Scion of a mighty stock! 
 Hands of iron, heart of oak — 
 Follow with unflinching tread 
 Where the noble fathers led. 
 
 A. H. Everett. 
 
 \ 
 
 August io. 
 
 Little deeds of kindness, little words of 
 
 love, 
 
 Make our earth an Eden, like the 
 
 Heaven above. 
 
 F. S. Osgood. 
 
 / 
 
 August ii. 
 
 O, weary hearts! O, slumbering eyes! 
 O, drooping souls, whose destinies 
 
 Are fraught with fear and pain — 
 
 Ye shall be loved again! 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 [77] 
 
Thy mercy bids all nature bloom; 
 
 The sun shines bright and man is gay; 
 Thine equal mercy spreads the gloom 
 
 That darkens o'er his little day. 
 
 'A. Norton. 
 
 \ 
 
 August 13. 
 
 Honesty with steady eye, 
 Truth and pure simplicity, 
 Love that gently winneth hearts — 
 These shall be thine only arts. 
 
 A. H. Everett. 
 
 I 
 
 August 14. 
 
 Yes, visions of his future rest 
 
 To man, the pilgrim, here are shown; 
 Deep love, pure friendship, thrill his 
 breast, 
 
 And hopes rush in of joys unknown. 
 
 O. W. B. Peabody. 
 
 [78] 
 
By the waters of life we sat together, 
 Hand in hand in the golden days 
 
 Of the beautiful early summer weather, 
 When skies were purple and breath 
 was praise. 
 
 R. Realf. 
 
 
 \ 
 
 August 16. 
 
 Kind messages that pass from land to 
 land; 
 Kind letters that betray the heart's 
 deep history — 
 In which we feel the pressure of a 
 hand — 
 One touch of fire — and all the rest is 
 mystery! 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 t 
 
 [79] 
 
Come, listen, O Love, to the voice of the 
 dove, 
 Come, hearken and hear him say, 
 There are many Tomorrows, my Love, 
 my Love — 
 There is only one Today. 
 
 J. Miller. 
 
 \ 
 
 August 18. 
 
 What's love, when the most is said? The 
 flash of the lightning fleet, 
 
 Then, darkness that shrouds the soul: but 
 the earth is firm to my feet. 
 
 M. A. De Fere. 
 
 f 
 
 August 19. 
 
 Oh! could the faith of childhood's days, 
 Oh! could its little hymns of praise, 
 Oh! could its simple, joyous trust 
 Be recreated from the dust! 
 
 E. H. Pullen. 
 
 [80] 
 
\ 
 
 August 20. 
 Through love to light! Oh, wonderful 
 
 the way 
 That leads from darkness to the perfect 
 
 day! 
 
 Through love to light! Through light, 
 
 O God, to Thee, 
 Who art the love of love, the eternal 
 
 light Of light! R. W. Gilder. 
 
 August 21. 
 His brow is wet with honest sweat, 
 
 He earns whate'er he can, 
 And looks the whole world in the face, 
 
 For he owes not any man. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 August 22. 
 O God, Thou faithful God! . . . 
 Give me a body sound; 
 
 And in it builded well, 
 Let an unblemished soul 
 
 And a good conscience dwell. 
 
 N. L. Frothingham. 
 
 [81] 
 
 / 
 
AMERICAN POETS 
 
 August 23. 
 Through the climes of the sky and the 
 bowers 
 Of bliss evermore I shall roam, 
 Wearing crowns of the stars and the 
 flowers 
 That glitter in Kingdom Come. 
 
 O. Curry. 
 
 \ 
 
 August 24. 
 Her little motions, when she spoke — 
 
 The presence of an upright soul — 
 The living light that from her broke: 
 
 It was the perfect whole! 
 
 /. H. Perkins. 
 
 August 25. 
 A martyr's crown is richer than a king's! 
 Think it an honor with thy Lord to 
 
 bleed . . . 
 Time shall embalm and magnify thy 
 
 name! 
 
 W . L. Garrison. 
 
 [82] 
 
 V 
 
 J 
 
AMERICAN POETS 
 
 Lo! the b] 
 
 August 26. 
 
 1 fields, with harvest white, 
 Thy hands to strenuous toil invite; 
 And he who labors and believes 
 Shall reap reward of ample sheaves. 
 
 W. H. Burleigh. 
 
 \ 
 
 August 27. 
 
 Love is hardest to be hidden. 
 Do your best, you can't conceal it; 
 Actions, looks and tones reveal it. 
 
 J. F. Clarke. 
 
 August 28. 
 
 In the meadows of Life we strayed to- 
 gether, 
 Watching the waving harvests grow; 
 And under the benison of the Father 
 Our hearts, like the lambs, skipped to 
 and fro. 
 
 R. Realf. 
 
 [83] 
 
\ 
 
 Then might they say — these vanished 
 ones — and blessed is the thought, 
 
 "So death is sweet to us, beloved! though 
 we may show you naught; 
 
 We may not to the quick reveal the mys- 
 tery of death : 
 
 Ye cannot tell us, if ye would, the mys- 
 tery of breath." 
 
 M, M. Dodge. 
 
 August 30. 
 
 One constant element of luck 
 
 Is genuine solid old Teutonic pluck. 
 
 Stick to your aim, the mongrel's hold 
 
 will slip; 
 But only crowbars loose the bulldog's 
 
 grip- 
 
 Emerson. 
 
 / 
 
 [84] 
 
August 31. 
 
 Ancient of days, Who sittest, throned in 
 glory- 
 To Thee all knees are bent, all voices 
 pray; 
 Thy love has blest the wide world's won- 
 drous story 
 With light and life since Eden's dawn- 
 ing day. 
 
 W. C. Doane. 
 
 \ 
 
 September i. 
 
 We have not wings, we cannot soar, 
 But we have feet to scale and climb 
 
 By slow degrees, by more and more, 
 The cloudy summits of our time. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 / 
 
 [86] 
 
Thou wonder-wakened soul! 
 
 As Dawn doth steal on Night, 
 On thee soft Love hath stole. 
 
 Thine eye, that blooms with light, 
 What makes its charm so new — ■ 
 
 Its sunshine, or its dew? 
 
 R. U. Johnson. 
 
 \ 
 
 September 3. 
 
 The essential truth of life remains, 
 Its goodness and its beauty too, 
 Pure love's unutterable gains, 
 
 And hope which thrills us through and 
 through. 
 God has not fled; 
 Souls are not dead. 
 
 J. L. Spalding. 
 
 / 
 
 [86] 
 
These clumsy feet, still in the mire, 
 
 Go crushing blossoms without end; 
 These hard, well-meaning hands we 
 thrust 
 Among the heart-strings of a friend. 
 
 E. R. Sill. 
 
 September 5. 
 
 It cannot be that all the ties 
 
 Of kindred souls and loving hearts, 
 Are broken when this body dies I 
 
 ra And the immortal mind departs. i 
 
 I D. B. Skkeh. 
 
 September 6. 
 
 My Redeemer and my Lord . . . 
 Guide me in each act and word, 
 That hereafter I may meet Thee, 
 Watching, waiting, hoping, yearning, 
 With my lamp well trimmed and burn- 
 ing. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 [87] 
 
September 7. 
 
 The friends who have parted . . . 
 Their voices were lost in the soundless 
 
 Retreats of their endless Home ; 
 But soon we shall meet in the boundless 
 
 Effulgence of Kingdom Come. 
 
 0. Curry. 
 
 \ 
 
 September 8. 
 
 The star of the unconquered will, 
 
 He rises in my breast, 
 Serene, and resolute and still, 
 
 And calm, and self-possessed. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 t 
 
 September 9. 
 
 With . . . passions under ban, 
 True faith and holy trust in God, 
 
 Thou art the peer of any man. 
 
 Look up, then, that thy little span 
 Of life may be well trod. 
 
 W. D. Gallagher. 
 
 [88] 
 
Let the noble motto be — 
 God, the Country, Liberty! 
 Planted on Religion's rock, 
 Thou shalt stand in every shock. 
 
 A. H. Everett. 
 
 \ 
 
 September ii. 
 
 I pray thee by thy mother's face, 
 
 And by her look and by her eye . . 
 By every prayer thy mother taught, 
 By every blessing that she sought — 
 I pray thee to be good. 
 
 J. G. C. Brainard. 
 
 t 
 
 September 12. 
 
 Beat on, my heart, and grow not old! 
 And when thy pulses all are told, 
 Let me, though working, loving still, 
 Kneel as I meet my Father's will. 
 
 L. /. Hall. 
 
O touch me not, unless thy soul 
 Can claim my soul as thine ; 
 
 Give me no earthly flowers that fade, 
 No love but love divine. 
 
 E. D. Glynes. 
 
 \ 
 
 September 14. 
 
 Behold, this is my crown — 
 
 Love will not let me be; 
 Love holds me here; Love cuts me 
 down; 
 
 And it is well with me. 
 
 L. W. Reese. 
 
 / 
 
 September 15. 
 
 I know and esteem you, and feel that 
 your nature is noble, 
 
 Lifting mine up to a higher, a more ethe- 
 real level. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 [90] 
 
 V 
 
Give me the room where every nook is 
 
 dedicated to a book: 
 Two windows will suffice for air 
 And grant the light admission there. 
 
 F. D. Sherman. 
 
 \ 
 
 September 17. 
 
 How shall we tell an angel 
 From another guest? 
 
 The old Sphinx smiles so subtly: 
 
 "I give no golden rule — 
 Yet would I warn thee, World: treat 
 well 
 
 Whom thou call'st fool." 
 
 G. Hall. 
 
 t 
 
 [91] 
 
AMERICAN POETS 
 
 September 18. 
 
 God answered him: I set you here on 
 
 high 
 Upon my beacon-tower: you know not 
 
 why. 
 
 s 
 
 You may not guess but that it shines in 
 vain, 
 
 Yet, till it is burned out you must re- 
 main. 
 
 E. L. White. 
 
 September 19, 
 
 The old shall glide 
 Into the new; the eternal flow of things, 
 Like a bright river of the fields of 
 
 Heaven, 
 Shall journey onward in perpetual 
 
 peace. 
 
 Bryant. 
 
 f 
 
 V 
 
 £92] 
 
 J 
 
AMERICAN POETS 
 
 September 20. 
 
 Look out upon the stars, my love, 
 And shame them with thine eyes, 
 
 On which, than on the lights above, 
 There hang more destinies. 
 
 E. C. Pinkney. 
 
 \ 
 
 September 21. 
 
 Let us, then, be what we are, and speak 
 what we think, and in all things 
 
 Keep ourselves loyal to truth and the sa- 
 cred professions of friendship. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 / 
 
 September 22. 
 
 An angel stood and met my gaze 
 Through the low doorway of my tent; 
 
 The tent is struck, the vision stays : 
 I only know she came and went. 
 
 Lowell. 
 
s 
 
 Over my heart, in the days that are flown, 
 No love like mother-love ever has 
 
 shone ; 
 No other worship abides and endures — 
 Faithful, unselfish and patient like 
 
 yours. 
 
 E. A. Allen. 
 
 September 24. 
 
 The battle of our life is brief- 
 The Alarm! The Struggle! 
 lief. 
 
 The Re- 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 September 25. 
 
 Who the sorrows would not bear 
 Of such a transient world as this, 
 
 When Hope displays, beyond its care, 
 So bright an entrance into bliss? 
 
 O. W. B. Peabody. 
 
 / 
 
 [94] 
 
I give a patient God 
 
 My patient heart, 
 And grasp His banner still, 
 
 Though all its blue be dim: 
 These stripes, no less than stars, 
 
 Lead after Him. 
 
 R. S. Howland. 
 
 
 \ 
 
 September 27. 
 
 All common things, each day's events 
 That with the hour begin and end, 
 
 Our pleasures and our discontents, 
 Are rounds by which we may ascend. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 f 
 
 September 28. 
 
 Full many a throb of grief and pain 
 Thy frail and erring child must know; 
 
 But not one prayer is breathed in vain, 
 Nor does one tear unheeded flow. 
 
 A. Norton. 
 
 [95] 
 
 V 
 
 J 
 
Afford me will and strength 
 To do the work assigned me, 
 
 Whereto, in my true place, 
 Thy law may call and find me. 
 
 N. L. Frothingham. 
 
 \ 
 
 September 30. 
 
 We look backward and before, 
 And inward, and we feel there is a life 
 Impelling us, that need not with this 
 
 frame 
 Or flesh grow feeble. 
 
 W. D. Gallagher. 
 
 / 
 
 October i. 
 
 Accomplish thy labor of love, till the 
 
 heart is made godlike, 
 Purified, strengthened, perfected, and 
 
 rendered more worthy of Heaven. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 [96] 
 
I know we cried 
 When Robin "went away"; 
 But this strange thing we never said, 
 That what we loved so could be "dead." 
 
 E. H. Nason. 
 
 \ 
 
 October 3. 
 
 I made a song for my dear love's delight; 
 I wrought with all sweet words my heart 
 
 could lend 
 To longing lips, and thrilled with joy to 
 
 send 
 The message only love could read aright. 
 
 S. M. Spalding. 
 
 
 [97] 
 
\ 
 
 October 4. 
 
 O power of love! O wondrous mys- 
 tery! 
 
 How is my dark illumined by thy light 
 
 That maketh morning of my gloomy 
 night, 
 
 Setting my soul from Sorrow's bondage 
 free 
 
 With swift-sent revelation! 
 
 K. Trask. 
 
 October 5. 
 
 I feel thy presence now: 
 
 Feel that the place has taken a charm 
 
 from thee, 
 And is forever hallowed. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 (LrtJ 
 
 t 
 
"Give me a fetter, Life," quoth I, 
 
 "To bind to mine my Sweeting's heart; 
 
 I prithee, Life, no more forbear — 
 .Why dost thou wait and falter so? 
 Haste, Life — be brief!" 
 Said Life, "Here's Grief." 
 
 /. M. Lippmann. 
 
 \ 
 
 October 7. 
 
 Thou dreamest the word shall return, 
 shot arrow-like into the air, 
 
 The wound in the breast where it 
 lodged be balmed and closed for 
 thy prayer! 
 
 / 
 
 For this, that thou prayest fond things, 
 'tis a far cry to Heaven, my soul! 
 
 E. M. Thomas. 
 
 [99] 
 
Look not with favor on my face, 
 
 Nor answer my caress, 
 Unless my soul have first found grace 
 
 Within thy sight; express 
 Only the truth, though it should be 
 Cold as the ice on northern sea. 
 
 E. D. Glynes. 
 
 \ 
 
 October 9. 
 
 The name of friendship is sacred; 
 What you demand in that name, I have 
 not the power to deny you. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 f 
 
 October 10. 
 
 I know not what the future hath 
 
 Of marvel or surprise; 
 Assured alone that life and death 
 
 His mercy underlies. 
 
 Whittier. 
 [1003 
 
Heaven is mirrored, Love, deep in thine 
 eyes; 
 Soft falls its shimmering light upon 
 thy face : 
 Tell me, Beloved, is this Paradise, 
 Or but Love's bower in some deep- 
 sheltered place? K. Trash 
 
 \ 
 
 October 12. 
 
 Men, in peace time, stand aloof 
 
 One from the other, asking proof 
 
 Of lineage and race and roof. 
 
 But let the blast of battle call — 
 
 Lo! they're unquestioning comrades all. 
 
 J. M. Lippmann, j 
 
 
 October 13. 
 
 Of this be sure, my dearest, whatever 
 
 thy life befall— 
 The cross that our own hands fashion is 
 
 the heaviest cross of all. 
 
 K. E. Conway. 
 
 [101] 
 
 V 
 
 J 
 
\ 
 
 October 14. 
 
 O never speak of love to me, 
 
 Unless thy heart can feel 
 That in the face of Deity 
 
 Thou wouldst that love reveal : 
 For God is love, and His bright law 
 Should find our hearts without one flaw. 
 
 E. D. Glynes. 
 
 October 15. 
 
 A viewless thing is Love, 
 And a name that vanisheth ; 
 But her strength is the wind's wild 
 strength above, 
 For she conquers shame and death. 
 
 R. Burton. 
 
 October 16. 
 
 In what men call Sleep . . . 
 Strong, silent fotces push my puny self 
 Towards unguessed issues, and the wak- 
 ing man 
 Rises a Greatheart where a Slave lay 
 
 down. R. Burton. 
 
 / 
 
 [102] 
 
He came too late! — Neglect had tried 
 
 Her constancy too long; 
 Her love had yielded to her pride, 
 
 And the deep sense of wrong. 
 
 E. Bogart. 
 
 October 18. 
 
 There be many kinds of parting — yes, I 
 know 
 
 Some with fond, grieving eyes that over- 
 flow, 
 
 Some with brave hands that strengthen as 
 they go ; 
 
 Ah yes, I know — I know. 
 
 M. G. Dickinson. 
 
 / 
 
 October 19. 
 
 Honor me above 
 All other women, since I am too true 
 To trap you with my sex's smaller arts. 
 
 A. D. Miller. 
 
 [108] 
 
I hope, as no unwelcome guest, 
 At your warm fireside, when the lamps 
 are lighted, 
 To have my place reserved among the 
 rest, 
 Nor stand as one unsought and unin- 
 vited. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 \ 
 
 October 21. 
 
 He entered at the door, the other flew 
 
 Out at the casement. . ,., ,. He who came 
 most new 
 
 Was fair, and he who went was wan and 
 gray. 
 
 "For I am Love who came," and "Be con- 
 tent," 
 
 Sang this one — "It was Poverty who 
 went!" 
 
 E. Pullen. 
 
 t 
 
 [104] 
 
Though but a candle thou didst have, 
 
 Its trimmed and glowing ray 
 Is infinite. With God, no light 
 Is great or small, but only bright, 
 As is His perfect day. 
 
 S. P. McL. Greene. 
 
 \ 
 
 October 23. 
 
 Are we blest spirits of some glad new 
 birth, 
 Floating at last in God's eternity? 
 Or art thou, Love, still but a man on 
 earth, 
 And I a woman clinging close to thee? 
 
 K. Trask. 
 
 t 
 
 [105] 
 
October 24. 
 
 If the wind and the brook and the bird 
 
 would teach 
 My heart their beautiful parts of speech, 
 And the natural art that they say these 
 
 with, 
 . . . the world would be richer one 
 
 poet the more. 
 
 M. Cawein. 
 
 \ 
 
 October 25. 
 
 So doth all end — 
 
 Honored Philosophy, 
 
 Science and Art, 
 
 The bloom of the heart! 
 Master, Consoler, Friend, 
 
 Make Thou the harvest of our days 
 
 To fall within Thy ways. 
 
 E. M. H. Cortissoz. 
 
 / 
 
Hast thou a lamp, a little lamp, 
 
 Put in that hand of thine? 
 And did He say, who gave it thee, 
 The world hath need this light should 
 be- 
 Now, therefore, let it shine? 
 
 S. P. McL. Greene. 
 
 \ 
 
 October 27. 
 
 Who have spread us the purple of 
 praises beneath our feet, 
 Yet guessed not the word that we spake 
 was a living word, 
 Applauding the sound — We account 
 you as worse than foes! 
 We sobbed you our message : ye said, 
 "It is song, and sweet!" 
 
 H. G. Cone. 
 
 t 
 
 [107] 
 
The eternal life beyond the sky, 
 Wealth cannot purchase, nor the high 
 And proud estate. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 \ 
 
 October 29. 
 
 Alas for those that never sing, 
 
 But die with all their music in them! 
 
 Holmes. 
 
 October 30. 
 
 Who placed the stones now gray with 
 
 many years? 
 And did the rough hands tire, the sore 
 
 hearts ache? 
 
 / 
 
 Those lives are over. All their hopes and 
 fears 
 
 Are lost like shadows in the morning- 
 break. 
 
 J. M. Lippmann. 
 
 [108] 
 
 V 
 
 J 
 
O the riches Love doth inherit! 
 
 Ah, the alchemy which doth change 
 Dross of body and dregs of spirit 
 
 Into sanctities rare and strange! 
 
 R. Realf. 
 
 \ 
 
 November i. 
 
 Warm hands to-day are clasped in mine; 
 Fond hearts my mirth or mourning 
 share; 
 And, over hope's horizon line 
 The future dawns, serenely fair. 
 
 E. D. Proctor. 
 
 t 
 
 November 2. 
 
 His soul-wind blows not always from 
 the north, 
 But sometimes also from the gentle south, 
 And then, like flowers, the tender 
 words steal forth. 
 
 C. F. Bates. 
 
 [109] 
 
The waters know their own and draw 
 The brook that springs in yonder 
 height; 
 
 So flows the good with equal law 
 Unto the soul of pure delight. 
 
 John Burroughs. 
 
 November 4. 
 Above thy head, through sifted clouds 
 
 1 ** c* oliinno 
 
 there shines 
 ^L A glorious star. Be patient. 
 Trust thy star. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 ( 
 
 November 5. 
 
 Dear love, the days that once were dear 
 May come no more; life may fulfill 
 
 Her fleeting dreams with many a tear, 
 But beauty's soul abideth still. 
 
 R. B. Wilson. 
 
 [UO] 
 
The love of man and woman is as fire, 
 To warm, to light, but surely to consume, 
 And self-consuming die. 
 
 J. J. Roche. 
 
 \ 
 
 November 7. 
 
 Old and yet ever new, and simple and 
 
 beautiful always, 
 Love immortal and young in the endless 
 
 succession of lovers. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 / 
 
 November 8. 
 
 The day is ended. Ere I sink to sleep, 
 My weary spirit seeks repose in Thine. 
 
 Father! forgive my trespasses, and keep 
 This little life of mine. 
 
 H. McE. Kimball. 
 
 [in] 
 
AMERICAN POETS 
 
 November 9. 
 
 O woman, let thy heart not cleave 
 
 To any poet's soul ! 
 For he the muse will never leave, 
 
 But follow to life's goal. 
 
 J. L. Spalding. 
 
 \ 
 
 November 10. 
 
 What matter if I stand alone? 
 
 I wait with joy the coming years ; 
 My heart shall reap where it has sown, 
 
 And garner up its fruit of tears. 
 
 John Burroughs. 
 
 / 
 
 November ii. 
 
 He alone is great 
 Who by a life heroic conquers fate. 
 
 S. K. Bolton. 
 
 [112] 
 
s 
 
 O Holy Father, Who hast led Thy chil- 
 dren 
 In all the ages, with the Fire and 
 Cloud, 
 Through seas dry-shod, through weary 
 wastes bewildering — 
 To Thee, in reverent love, our hearts 
 are bowed. 
 
 W, C. Doane. 
 
 November 13. 
 
 Perhaps the dreaded future is less bitter 
 
 than I think; 
 The Lord may sweeten the waters before 
 
 I stoop to drink; 
 Or, if Marah must be Marah, He will 
 
 stand beside its brink. 
 
 M. G. Brainard. 
 
 / 
 
 [113] 
 
 V 
 
 J 
 
Who in life's battle firm doth stand, 
 Shall bear Hope's tender blossoms 
 Into the Silent Land. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 \ 
 
 November 15. 
 
 Oh, frame some little word for me, 
 None else shall ever hear or see — 
 Something my soul can call her own, 
 When suddenly she feels alone. 
 
 67. F. Bates. 
 
 f 
 
 November 16. 
 
 Heaven bends in blessing; 
 
 Lost is but won ; 
 Goes the good rain-cloud, 
 
 Comes the good sun. 
 
 E. R. Sill. 
 
The stars come nightly to the sky; 
 
 The tidal wave unto the sea; 
 Nor time, nor space, nor deep, nor high, 
 
 Can keep my own away from me. 
 
 John Burroughs. 
 
 November 18. 
 
 Only babes whimper, 
 
 And sick men wail, 
 And faint hearts and feeble hearts 
 
 And weaklings fail. 
 
 E. R. Sill. 
 
 November 19. 
 
 Not chance of birth or place has made us 
 friends, 
 Being oftentimes of different tongues 
 and nations, 
 But the endeavor for the selfsame ends, 
 With the same hopes, and fears, and 
 aspirations. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 [115] 
 
 / 
 
 V 
 
 J 
 
\ 
 
 November 20. 
 
 I know not what will befall me: God 
 hangs a mist o'er my eyes ; 
 
 And thus, each step of my onward path, 
 He makes new scenes arise, 
 
 And every joy He sends to me comes like 
 a sweet surprise. M . G. Brainard. 
 
 November 21. 
 
 I wake ; thy kiss is on my lips ; 
 
 Thou art my day, my sun I 
 But where, O spirit, where wast thou 
 
 While the sands of night have run? 
 
 A. Fields. 
 
 November 22. 
 
 More, dear love, to me 
 Are thy pure eyes than all the stars of 
 
 night 
 That shine in heaven everlastingly! 
 Night still is night, with every star aglow, 
 But light were night, didst thou not love 
 
 m e so. 7. w% Chadwick. 
 
 / 
 
 [116] 
 
Serene, I fold my hands and wait, 
 Nor care for wind, or tide, or sea; 
 
 I rave no more 'gainst time or fate, 
 For, lo ! my own shall come to me. 
 
 John Burroughs. 
 
 November 24. 
 
 It cannot be that all the years 
 Of toil and care and grief we live, 
 
 Shall find no recompense but tears, 
 No sweet return that earth can give. 
 
 D. B. Sickels. 
 
 t 
 
 November 25. 
 
 One Hope we ne'er shall rue: 
 
 In whose sight all is now; 
 In whose love all is best. 
 The things of this world pass away: 
 Come, let us in Him rest. 
 
 F. SewalL 
 
 [117] 
 
Whatever comes, whatever goes, 
 Still throbs the heart whereby we live; 
 The primal joys still lighten woes, 
 And time which steals doth also give. 
 
 Fear not; be brave: 
 
 God can thee save. 
 
 /. L. Spalding. 
 
 \ 
 
 November 27. 
 
 The ill-timed truth we might have kept — 
 Who knows how sharp it pierced and 
 stung! 
 The word we had not sense to say — 
 Who knows how grandly it had rung! 
 
 E. R. Sill. 
 
 t 
 
 [118] 
 
While the nation finds a tongue 
 For nobler gifts to pray, 
 'Twill ever sing the song they sung 
 That first Thanksgiving Day: 
 
 "Praise ye the Lord with fervent 
 lips, 
 Praise ye the Lord to-day." 
 
 H. Butterworth. 
 
 \ 
 
 November 29. 
 
 The little Quaker maid, 
 Timidly, yet not afraid, 
 Unfolds the sweetness of her soul 
 
 To Heavenly control, 
 And wears upon her quiet face 
 The Spirit's tender grace. 
 
 E. M. H. Cortissoz. 
 
 / 
 
 tH9] 
 
 V 
 
 J 
 
When my cheerful fire was beaming, 
 When my little lamp was gleaming, 
 And the feast was spread for three — 
 
 Lo, my Master 
 Was the guest that supped with me! 
 
 H. M. Kimball. 
 
 \ 
 
 December i. 
 
 For many blessings I to God upraise 
 A thankful heart; the life He gives is fair 
 And sweet and good, since He is every- 
 where, 
 Still with me even in the darkest ways. 
 
 /. L. Spalding. 
 
 / 
 
 December 2. 
 
 Asleep, awake, by night or day 
 The friends I seek are seeking me, 
 
 No wind can drive my bark astray, 
 Nor change the tide of destiny. 
 
 John Burroughs. 
 
 [120] 
 
December 3. 
 
 O Triune God, with heart and voice 
 adoring, 
 Praise we the goodness that doth crown 
 our days; 
 Pray we, that Thou wilt hear us, still im- 
 ploring 
 Thy love and favor, kept to us always. 
 
 W. C. Doane. 
 
 \ 
 
 December 4. 
 
 O what a glory doth this world put on 
 For him who, with a fervent heart, goes 
 
 forth 
 Under the bright and glorious sky, and 
 
 looks 
 On duties well performed and days well 
 
 spent! 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 / 
 
 [121] 
 
s 
 
 December 5. 
 
 Harms of the world have come unto us, 
 Cups of sorrow we yet shall drain; 
 
 But we have a secret which doth show us 
 Wonderful rainbows in the rain. 
 
 R. Realf. 
 
 December 6. 
 
 The ladder which the Hebrew saw 
 
 Whenas he slept, 
 From earth God never doth updraw, 
 
 But still hath kept. 
 
 C. G. Whiting. 
 
 December 7. 
 
 In the room 
 Of this grief-shadowed present there shall 
 
 be 
 A present in whose reign no grief shall 
 
 gnaw 
 The heart, and never shall a tender tie 
 Be broken. 
 
 Bryant. 
 
 [122] 
 
Our hearts are lamps forever burning 
 With a steady and unwavering flame, 
 Pointing upward, forever the same, 
 Steadily upward toward the Heaven. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 \ 
 
 December 9. 
 
 I like the man who faces what he must 
 With step triumphant and a heart of 
 
 cheer; 
 Who fights the daily battle without fear; 
 Sees his hopes fail, yet keeps unfaltering 
 
 trust 
 That God is God. 
 
 S. K. Bolton. 
 
 t 
 
 [123] 
 
 V 
 
 J 
 
s 
 
 December io. 
 
 We sit by our household fires together, 
 Dreaming the dreams of long ago. 
 
 Icicles hang from the slippery eaves; 
 The wind blows cold — 'tis growing 
 late; 
 Well, well! we have garnered all our 
 sheaves, 
 I and my darling; and we wait. 
 
 R. Realf. 
 
 December ii. 
 
 Yes, we must ever be friends, and of all 
 
 who offer you friendship 
 Let me be ever the first, the truest, the 
 
 nearest and dearest. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 December 12. 
 
 'Tis not the grapes of Canaan that repay, 
 But the high faith that failed not by the 
 way. 
 
 Lowell. 
 
 [124] 
 
 / 
 
December 13. 
 
 What's life, what's life, little heart? 
 
 dream when the nights are long, 
 Toil in the waking days, tears, and a kiss, 
 
 a song. 
 
 M. A. De Vere. 
 
 \ 
 
 December 14. 
 
 On the throngs of men, 
 On worrying care and strife, 
 Sinks down, as if from angel tongues, 
 The word of hope and life. 
 
 F. Sewall. 
 
 t 
 
 December 15. 
 
 There is a home for weary souls 
 
 By sin and sorrow driven; 
 When tossed on life's tempestuous shoals, 
 Where storms arise and ocean rolls, 
 
 And all is drear but Heaven. 
 
 W. B. Tappan. 
 
 [125] 
 
The sun set, but set not his hope: 
 Stars rose ; his faith was earlier up 
 
 He spoke, and words more soft than rain 
 Brought the Age of Gold again. 
 
 Emerson. 
 
 \ 
 
 December 17. 
 
 Ah, well! for us all some sweet hope lies 
 Deeply buried from human eyes; 
 And, in the hereafter, angels may 
 Roll the stone from its grave away! 
 
 Whittier. 
 
 1 
 
 / 
 
 December 18. 
 
 It lies around us like a cloud, 
 
 The world we do not see ; 
 Yet the sweet closing of an eye 
 
 May bring us there to be. 
 
 H. E. B. Stowe. 
 
 [126] 
 
December 19. 
 
 'Tis said that absence conquers love! 
 
 But, O, believe it not! 
 I've tried, alas, its power to prove 
 
 But thou art not forgot. 
 
 F. W. Thomas. 
 
 \ 
 
 December 20. 
 
 What cares the lover for storm or drift, 
 Or peril of death on the haggard way? 
 He sings to himself like a lark in the lift, 
 And the joy in his heart turns December 
 to May. 
 
 R. Collyer. 
 
 / 
 
 December 21. 
 
 With loving-kindness curtain Thou my 
 bed, 
 And cool in rest my burning pilgrim- 
 feet; 
 Thy pardon be the pillow for my head; 
 So shall my sleep be sweet. 
 
 H. McE. Kimball. 
 
 [127] 
 
The secret longings that arise, 
 Which this world never satisfies! 
 Some more, some less, but of the whole 
 Not one quite happy — no, not one ! 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 \ 
 
 December 23. 
 
 If He abide, all loss may still be gain, 
 And darkest night be beautiful as day. 
 But, lacking Him, the universe is vain, 
 And man's immortal soul is turned to 
 clay. 
 
 J. L. Spalding. 
 
 t 
 
 December 24. 
 
 I stay my haste, I make delays, 
 For what avails this eager pace? 
 
 I stand amid the eternal ways, 
 And what is mine shall know my face. 
 
 John Burroughs. 
 
 [128] 
 
O holy Child of Bethlehem! 
 
 Descend to us, we pray; 
 Cast out our sin and enter in, 
 
 Be born in us to-day. 
 
 Phillips Brooks. 
 
 \ 
 
 December 26. 
 
 So I go on not knowing — I would not, if 
 
 I might; 
 I would rather walk in the dark with 
 
 God than go alone in the light; 
 I would rather walk with Him by faith 
 
 than walk alone by sight. 
 
 M. G. Brainard. 
 
 / 
 
 December 27. 
 
 Fell the mists from her mind, and she 
 saw the world far below her — 
 
 Dark no longer, but all illumined with 
 love. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 [129] 
 
Doubts — hopes, in eager tumult rise ; 
 
 Hear, O my God! one earnest prayer: 
 Room for my bird in Paradise, 
 
 And give her angel plumage there! 
 
 E. C. Judson. 
 
 \ 
 
 December 29. 
 
 Heavenly thoughts as soft and white 
 As snow-flakes, on my soul alight, 
 Clothing with love my lonely heart, 
 Healing with peace each bruised part. 
 
 J. T. Trowbridge, 
 
 / 
 
 December 30. 
 
 ire 
 
 Be strong, be good, be pui^* 
 The right only shall endure; 
 All things else are but false pretences. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 [130] 
 
My heart shrinks back from trials which 
 
 the future may disclose, 
 Yet I never had a sorrow but what the 
 
 dear Lord chose; 
 So I send the coming tears back with the 
 
 whispered word, "He knows." 
 
 M. G. Brainard. 
 
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