And a proverb haunts my mind As a spell is cast, The mill cannot grind With the water that is past.
Sarah Doudney
The pure, the beautiful, the bright,<br/>That stirred our hearts in youth, <br/>The impulse to a wordless prayer,<br/>The dreams of love and truth, <br/>The longings after something lost,<br/>The spirit's yearning cry, <br/>The strivings after better hopes <br/>These things can never die.
dreams truth youth hearts beautiful bright prayer lost hopes impulse cry pure things die yearning love hope
But the waiting time, my brothers, Is the hardest time of all
time waiting brothers
I send thee pansies while the year is young, Yellow as sunshine, purple as the night; Flowers of remembrance, ever fondly sung By all the chiefest of the Sons of Light.
light
mind
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