The sunshine went out of his soul with a thrill, Life Lessons The flesh 'neath his armor did shrink and crawl, And midway its leap his heart stood still Like a frozen waterfall; For this man, so foul and bent of stature, The leper raised not the gold from the dust: "Better to me the poor man's crust, Better the blessing of the poor, Though I turn me empty from his door: Who gives from a sense of duty; But he who gives a slender mite, That thread of the all-sustaining Beauty For a god goes with it and makes it store To the soul that was starving in darkness be fore." JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL. From "The Vision of Sir Launfal." Life Lessons Opportunity This I beheld, or dreamed it in a dream:- A furious battle, and men yelled, and swords Wavered, then staggered backward, hemmed by foes. A craven hung along the battle's edge, And thought, " Had I a sword of keener steel— this Blunt thing!" he snapt and flung it from his And lowering crept away and left the field. And saved a great cause that heroic day. EDWARD ROWLAND SILL. Abou Ben Adhem and the Angel Abou Ben Adhem (may his tribe increase!) "What writest thou?"—The Vision raised its And with a look made of all sweet accord Answered, "The names of those who love the Lord." "And is mine one?" said Abou. said Abou. "Nay, not so," The Angel wrote and vanished. The next night blessed, And, lo! Ben Adhem's name led all the rest. Life Lessons Sa Be True Thou must be true thyself, If thou the truth wouldst teach; Another's soul wouldst reach! Think truly, and thy thoughts Live truly, and thy life shall be A great and noble creed. HORATIO Bonar. The Shepherd Boy Sings in the Valley of He that is down needs fear no fall, He that is low, no pride; I am content with what I have, And, Lord, contentment still I crave, Because Thou savest such. Fullness to such a burden is That go on pilgrimage: Here little, and hereafter bliss, Is best from age to age. JOHN BUNYAN. A Turkish Legend 'A certain pasha, dead five thousand years, And had this sentence on the city's gate So these four words above the city's noise And evermore from the high barbican, Lost is that city's glory. Every gust Lifts, with crisp leaves, the unknown pasha's dust, And all is ruin, save one wrinkled gate Whereon is written, "Only God is great." THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH. Life Lessons |