The Greatest Architect And The

When Our Children Die, We Drop Them Into The Unknown, Shuddering With Fear. We Know That They Go Out From Us, And We Stand, And Pity, And Wonder.

God Makes The Life Fertile By Disappointments, As He Makes The Ground Fertile By Frosts.

You Have Seen A Ship Out On The Bay, Swinging With The Tide, And Seeming As If It Would Follow It; And Yet It Cannot, For Down Beneath The Water It Is Anchored. So Many A Soul Sways Toward Heaven, But Cannot Ascend Thither, Because It Is Anchored To Some Secret Sin.

The Beginning Is The Promise Of The End.

Books Are The True Metempsychosis,--they Are The Symbol And Presage Of Immortality. The Dead Men Are Scattered, And None Shall Find Them. Behold They Are Here! They Do But Sleep.