O men, grown sick with toil and care, Leave for awhile the crowded mart; O women, sinking with despair, Weary of limb and faint of heart, Forget your years to-day and come As children back to childhood's house.

But whenever she thanks the givers for favors great and small, she thinks of the good little sister who gave her more than they all.

Give plenty of what is given to you, And listen to pity's call. Don't think the little you give is great, And the much you get is small.

But alas for the dreams that round us play! / For the plans of mortal making! / And alas for the false and fickle day / That looked so fair at waking!

Only yield when you must, never "give up the ship," but fight on to the last "with a stiff upper lip!

All the great blessings of my life are present in my thoughts today

I think true love is never blind, / But rather brings an added light; / An inner vision quick to find / The beauties hid from common sight.