Not to the curious or impatient soul That in the start, demands the end be shown, And at each step, stops waiting for a sign; But to the tireless toiler toward the goal, Shall the great miracles of God be known And life revealed, immortal and divine. The Structure. UPON the wreckage of thy yesterday Design the structure of tomorrow. Lay Strong corner stones of purpose, and prepare Great blocks of wisdom, cut from past despair. Shape mighty pillars of resolve, to set Deep in the tear-wet mortar of regret. Work on with patience. Though thy toil be slow, Yet day by day the edifice shall grow. Believe in God—in thine own self believe. All that thou hast desired thou shalt achieve. Our Souls. OUR souls should be vessels receiving The waters of love for relieving The sorrows of men. For here lies the pleasure of living: In taking God’s bounties, and giving The gifts back again. The Law. WHEN the great universe was wrought To might and majesty from naught, The all creative force was— _Thought_. That force is thine. Though desolate The way may seem, command thy fate. Send forth thy thought— Create—_Create_! Knowledge. WOULD you believe in Presences Unseen— In life beyond this earthly life? BE STILL: Be stiller yet; and listen. Set the screen Of silence at the portal of your will. Relax, and let the world go by unheard. And seal your lips with some all-sacred word. Breathe “God,” in any tongue—it means the same; LOVE ABSOLUTE: Think, feel, absorb the thought; Shut out all else; until a subtle flame (A spark from God’s creative center caught) Shall permeate your being, and shall glow, Increasing in its splendor, till, YOU KNOW. Not in a moment, or an hour, or day The knowledge comes; the power is far too great, To win in any desultory way. No soul is worthy till it learns to wait. Day after day be patient, then, oh, soul; Month after month—till, lo! the goal! the goal! Give GIVE, and thou shalt receive. Give thoughts of cheer, Of courage and success, to friend and stranger. And from a thousand sources, far and near, Strength will be sent thee in thy hour of danger. Give words of comfort, of defense, and hope, To mortals crushed by sorrow and by error. And though thy feet through shadowy paths may grope, Thou shalt not walk in loneliness or terror. Give of thy gold, though small thy portion be. Gold rusts and shrivels in the hand that keeps it. It grows in one that opens wide and free. Who sows his harvest is the one who reaps it.