Sometimes, I think the things we see are shadows of the things to be; that what we plan we build

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.

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.

One sweetly solemn thought, comes to me o'er and o'er; I am nearer home today, than I ever have been before.

Never is true love blind, but rather brings an added light.

O that one unguarded moment! / Were it mine to live again, / All the strength of its temptation / Would appeal to me in vain.

Sometimes, I think the things we see are shadows of the things to be; that what we plan we build