Life's Sharpest Rapture Is Surcease

The Jewish Problem Is As Old As History, And Assumes In Each Age A New Form. The Life Or Death Of Millions Of Human Beings Hangs Upon Its Solution; Its Agitation Revives The Fiercest Passions For Good And For Evil That Inflame The Human Breast.

Thick February Mists Cling Heavily To The Dead Earth And To Each Leafless Tree, And Closer Down Upon The Hilltops Draw, Dull Forecasts There Of Bright, Sure-coming Spring; Yet The Heart Gathers Hope And Strange Delight From This Dear, Unlovely, Wished-for Sight Of Leaden-misted Twilights Lengthening.

Life's Sharpest Rapture Is Surcease Of Pain.

No Man Had Ever Heard A Nightingale, When Once A Keen-eyed Naturalist Was Stirred To Study And Define -- What Is A Bird.

Naught Is Too Small And Soft To Turn And Sting.