The victories of Right Are born of strife. There were no Day were there no Night, Nor, without dying, Life.
Lewis Morris (poet)
Toil is the law of life and its best fruit.
life
rights life
Call no faith false which e'er hath brought Relief to any laden life, Cessation to the pain of thought, Refreshment mid the dust of strife.
pain life faith
The love of the Right, tho' cast down, the hate of victorious Ill, All are sparks from the central fire of a boundless beneficent will.
rights
Sound, jocund strains; on pipe and viol sound, Young voices sing; Wreathe every door with snow-white voices round, For lo! 't is Spring! Winter has passed with its sad funeral train, And Love revives again.
sound door
The passionate love of Right, the burning hate of Wrong.
rights wrongs
Rest springs from strife and dissonant chords beget Divinest harmonies.
rest
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