Few things are more aggravating than to be forgiven when one has done no wrong.

Few things are more aggravating than to be forgiven when one has done no wrong.

As we meet and touch, each day, The many travelers on our way, Let every such brief contact be A glorious, helpful minister.

To-morrow I will begin, thought Katy, as she dropped asleep that night. How often we all do so! And what a pity it is that when morning comes and to-morrow is to-day, we so frequently wake up feeling quite differently; careless or impatient, and not a bit inclined to do the fine things we planned overnight.

...this pause of rest, This morning hush before the sun.

Slow buds the pink dawn like a rose From out night's gray and cloudy sheath; Softly and still it grows and grows, Petal by petal, leaf by leaf.

Every day is a fresh beginning. Every morn is the world made anew.