67. Ours is the seed-time; God alone Beholds the end of what is sown; Beyond our vision, weak and dim, The harvest time is hid with Him.- Whittier. 68. Have Hope! Though clouds environ round, And gladness hides her face in scorn, Put thou the shadow from thy brow, -Schiller. No night but hath its morn. 69. Howe'er it be, it seems to me And simple faith than Norman blood. 70. 'Tis sweet to think, when struggling That just beyond the shores of time 71. Wisdom, with our stature, grant us, Nor let folly's wiles enchant us -Tennyson. -Mrs. Sigourney. |