What Courage And Patience Are Wanted For

The Dew-bead Gem Of Earth And Sky Begotten.

Our Deeds Still Travel With Us From Afar, And What We Have Been Makes Us What We Are.

Little Children Are Still The Symbol Of The Eternal Marriage Between Love And Duty.

There Is No Hour That Has Not Its Births Of Gladness And Despair, No Morning Brightness That Does Not Bring New Sickness To Desolation As Well As New Forces To Genius And Love. There Are So Many Of Us, And Our Lots Are So Different, What Wonder That Nature's Mood Is Often In Harsh Contrast With The Great Crisis Of Our Lives?

No Story Is The Same To Us After A Lapse Of Time; Or Rather We Who Read It Are No Longer The Same Interpreters.