But for thy breath, the spark of living fire Within me might have smoldered out at length; But for thy lash which would not let me tire, I never would have measured my own strength. But for thine ofttimes merciless control Upon my life, that nerved me past despair, I never should have dug deep in my soul And found the mine of treasures hidden there. And though we walk divided pathways now, And I no more may see thee, to the end, I weave this little chaplet for thy brow, That other hearts may know, and hail thee friend. ACHIEVEMENT. Trust in thine own untried capacity As thou wouldst trust in God Himself. Thy soul Is but an emanation from the whole. Thou dost not dream what forces lie in thee, Vast and unfathomed as the grandest sea. Thy silent mind o’er diamond caves may roll, Go seek them--but let pilot will control Those passions which thy favoring winds can be. No man shall place a limit in thy strength; Such triumphs as no mortal ever gained May yet be thine if thou wilt but believe In thy Creator and thyself. At length Some feet will tread all heights now unattained-- Why not thine own? Press on; achieve! achieve! BELIEF. The pain we have to suffer seems so broad, Set side by side with this life’s narrow span, We need no greater evidence that God Has some diviner destiny for man. He would not deem it worth His while to send Such crushing sorrows as pursue us here, Unless beyond this fleeting journey’s end Our chastened spirits found another sphere. So small this world! So vast its agonies! A future life is needed to adjust These ill-proportioned, wide discrepancies Between the spirit and its frame of dust. So when my soul writhes with some aching grief. And all my heart-strings tremble at the strain, My Reason lends new courage to Belief, And all God’s hidden purposes seem plain. WHATEVER IS--IS BEST. I know as my life grows older, And mine eyes have clearer sight-- That under each rank wrong, somewhere There lies the root of Right; That each sorrow has its purpose, By the sorrowing oft unguessed, But as sure as the sun brings morning, Whatever is--is best. I know that each sinful action, As sure as the night brings shade, Is somewhere, sometime punished, Tho’ the hour be long delayed. I know that the soul is aided Sometimes by the heart’s unrest, And to grow means often to suffer-- But whatever is--is best. I know there are no errors, In the great Eternal plan, And all things work together For the final good of man. And I know when my soul speeds onward, In its grand Eternal quest, I shall say as I look back earthward, Whatever is--is best.