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

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

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.

I know not which I love the most, Nor which the comeliest shows, The timid, bashful violet Or the royal-hearted rose: The pansy in purple dress, The pink with cheek of red, Or the faint, fair heliotrope, who hangs, Like a bashful maid her head.

Do we call the star lost that is hidden / In the great light of morn?

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

And though hard be the task, keep a stiff upper lip.