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Alas, how scant the sheaves for all the trouble, The toil, the pain and the resolve sublime-- A few full ears; the rest but weeds and stubble, And withered wild-flowers plucked before their time. - The Old Campus [Life] Ah, poet-dreamer, within those walls What triumphs shall be yours! For all are happy and rich and great In that City of By-and-by. - Two Landscapes [Poets] From fibers of pain and hope and trouble And toil and happiness,--one by one,-- Twisted together, or single or double, The varying thread of our life is spun. Hope shall cheer though the chain be galling; Light shall come though the gloom be falling; Faith will list for the Master calling Our hearts to his rest,--when the day is done. - When the Day is done [Day]
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