Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Be still, sad heart and cease repining; Behind the clouds is the sun still shining; Thy fate is the common fate of all, Into each life some rain must fall, Some days must be dark and dreary.

Every dewdrop and raindrop had a whole heaven within it.

You would attain to the divine perfection. . . .

The hooded clouds, like friars, Tell their beads in drops of rain.

Though the mills of God grind slowly, yet they grind exceeding small; Though with patience he stands waiting, with exactness grinds he all.

'Wouldst thou'-so the helmsman answered,- 'Learn the secret of the sea? Only those who brave its dangers Comprehend its mystery!'

If we could read the secret history of our enemies we should find in each man's life sorrow and suffering enough to disarm all hostility.

If you would hit the mark, you must aim a little above it: Every arrow that flies feels the attraction of earth.

A banner with the strange device.

Let us, then, be up and doing, With a heart for any fate; Still achieving, still pursuing, Learn to labour and to wait.