A feeling of sadness and longing, that is not akin to pain, and r

Be still, sad heart! and cease repining; Behind the clouds is the

So nature deals with us, and takes away Our playthings one by one

And in the wreck of noble lives Something immortal still survives

But noble souls, through dust and heat, Rise from disaster and de

The lowest ebb is the turn of the tide.

So when a great man dies, For years beyond our ken, The light he

Not enjoyment, and not sorrow, Is our destined end or way; But to

Let us, then, be up and doing, With a heart for any fate; Still a

So mild, so merciful, so strong, so good, So patient, peaceful, l