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Drown sneers in smiles, kill hatred with a kiss,
And to the sandy waste bequeath the fame
That the flowers bloomed behind us whence we came.
JOHN STUART BLACKIE.
The Tapestry Weavers.
Let us take to our hearts a lesson
No braver lesson can be
From the ways of tapestry weavers,
Above their heads the pattern hangs;
The while their fingers deftly move
They tell this curious thing besides
It is only when the weaving stops,
That his marvelous skill is learned.
Oh, the sight of its delicate beauty!
Then the master giveth him golden hire,
And how happy the heart of the weaver is
The years of a man are the looms of God,
Till the mystic web is done.
Weaving blindly, but weaving surely,
We may not know how the right side looks;
But, looking above for the pattern,
If he keeps the face of the Savior
His toil shall be sweeter than noney;
His weaving is sure to be right.
A. G. CHEster.
Time's finger on the dial of my life
Points to high noon. And yet the half-spent day Leaves less than half remaining! For the dark,
Bleak shadows of the grave engulf the end.
To those who burn the candle to the stick,
To cleanse the clouded windows of our souls
Three things I learned-three things of precious worth—
I have learned how to pray, and toil, and save;
This alone is gain.
ELLA WHEELER WILCOX.
What Is Life?
Ah, what is life?
'Tis but a passing touch upon the world;
ANNA KATHERINE GREEN.
Life an Image of God.
Throughout this beautiful and wonderful creation there is never-ceasing motion, without rest by night or day, ever weaving to and fro. Swifter than a weaver's shuttle, it flies from birth to death, from death to birth; from the beginning seeks the en' and finds it not; for the
seeming end is only a dim beginning of a new out-going and endeavor after the end. As the ice upon the mountain, when the warm breath of the Summer's sun breathes upon it, melts and divides into drops, each of which reflects an image of the sun, so life, in the smile of God's love, divides itself into separate forms, each bearing in it, and reflecting, an image of God's love. -Longfellow.
Life Not What It Seems.
Life, my young friends, is not what it seems to be to you. Life is not a sailing under fair skies and across tranquil seas, until you shall drop your anchor in Fair Havens at the end. Life is not a yachting excursion through the many-islanded Mediterranean, or around the creeks and bays of our lovely shores. Life is not sailing up and down some romantic Clyde, or still more romantic Rhine. Life means being out on the open sea. Life means roughing it. Life means storm; means fog, and unsightly mud-banks, on which you may run and be stranded. Life means roaring reefs and sunken rocks. Life means (to change the metaphor) snares and traps set with devilish skill for unwary feet, all round about. "Sirs," says the preacher, says Paul, says God himself, "I perceive that this voyage is to mean trouble, distress and trial, do as we may and go as we may."
This was said, remember, while they were still in the harbor. "In any case, our voyage is to mean trouble, trial and hardship." And I say the same. Oh, it is unwelcome; it is irksome doctrine.
not think I believed it myself.
Time was when I do
Time was when life