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Like the bird be thou,

That for a moment rests
Upon the topmost bough:
He feels the branch to bend
And yet as sweetly sings,
Knowing that he has wings.

I wonder did you ever count

-Victor Hugo.

The value of one human fate;

Or sum the infinite amount

Of one heart's treasure, and the weight Of life's one venture, and the whole Concentrate purpose of a soul.

-Adelaide A. Procter.

If a man constantly aspires, is he not elevated?

-Thoreau.

In running their race, men of birth look back too much, which is the mark of a bad runner. -Bacon.

Infancy is the perpetual Messiah, which comes into the arms of fallen men, and pleads with them to return to paradise.

-Emerson.

The eyes of men converse as much as their tongues, with the advantage, that the ocular dialect needs no dictionary, but is understood all the world over.

-Emerson.

Doubt is not itself a crime. All manner of doubt, inquiry about all manner of objects, dwells in every reasonable mind. It is the mystic working of the mind on the object it is getting to know about.

-Carlyle.

Every inmost aspiration is God's angel undefiledAnd in every "Oh, my father," slumbers deep a "Here, my child."

-Tholuck.

The rest which does us all good, and enables us to do our work well, is the rest of the heart—the Sabbath of the soul.

-James Freeman Clarke.

Earth captive held

By winter, deems him a foeThat he can weld

Such fetters; deep down below Her violets, close-celled

Flutter to go.

Earth, when she 's free

To bud and blow,

And feel through every fiber of each tree

The strength to grow,

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Will say, "Twas Winter gave it me,
And in the sunshine bless the snow.

-Alice Ward Bailey.

"Could I find a word

As pure as the rose, Half hid in the wayside Grass that grows, Nor aught of itself

Intends or knows; That word is the word I would say.

"Could I make a song

As careless of art

As the sparrow's trill

That should seem a part

Of my life, a blessing

From my heart;—
That song I would sing
Thee to-day."

FRIENDSHIP.

A ruddy drop of manly blood
The surging sea outweighs;
The world uncertain comes and goes;
The lover rooted stays.

I fancied he was fled,—

And, after many a year,
Glowed unexhausted kindliness,
Like daily sunrise there.

My careful heart was free again,
O friend, my bosom said,
Through thee alone the sky is arched,
Through thee the rose is red;

All things through thee take nobler form,
And look beyond the earth,

The mill-round of our fate appears

A sun-path in thy worth.

Me, too, thy nobleness has taught
To master my despair;

The fountains of my hidden life
Are through thy friendship fair.

-Emerson.

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