Feast, and your halls are crowded Fast, and the world goes by Succeed and give, and it helps you live But no man can help you die

I knew it the first of the summer, I knew it the same at the end, That you and your love were plighted, But couldn't you be my friend?

There is new strength, repose of mind, and inspiration in fresh apparel.

When we tire of well-worn ways, we seek for new. This restless craving in the souls of men spurs them to climb, and to seek the mountain view.

With every deed you are sowing a seed, though the harvest you may not see.

Wiped the cold dew-drops from his cheek And sought the mourner's side again. "Once more, dear lady, I must speak: Your last remaining son was slain Just at the closing of the fight; Twas he who sent me here to-night." "God knows," the man said afterward, "The fight itself was not so hard."

Through strife the slumbering soul awakes, We learn on error's troubled route The truths we could not prize without The sorrow of our sad mistakes.