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Looking Forward (Poem)

When the leaves fall
Do we not say "They have played their part
Giving all through the summer days
Shelter and beauty in woodland ways,
And mystic music that soothed the heart"—
Oh leaves, dear leaves, we watch you fade,
Regretfully but undismayed;
While boughs are bare and days are drear
We wait for what shall be next year
When the glad Spring comes.

When the day dies,
Do we not say "It is time to rest:
Through the busy hours we planned and wrought,
But eager hand and strenuous thought
Are stilled awhile at night’s behest"—
Oh sun whose shining was so sweet,
The lengthening shadows at our feet
Affright us not, for well we know
Your light again will gleam and glow
When the new day comes.

When the heart aches,
Shall we not say "It cannot be
That grief is purposeless or vain:
Some good is wrought by this our pain,
Although its end we may not see"—
Oh strife and loss and seeming death,
Deep in my heart there whispereth
Assurance that ye are the root
From which shall spring fair bloom and fruit
When the real Life comes.

The desire of being well-pleased is universal; the desire of pleasing should be so to. Let us not only scatter benefits, but even strew flowers for our fellow-travelers in the rugged ways of this world.
—Lord Chesterfield
He will never enjoy the sweets of Spring, nor will he obtain the honeycombs of Mount Hybla, if he dreads his face being stung, or is annoyed by Briers.  The Rose is guarded by its Thorn, the Honey is defended by the Bee.
—From the Latin

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