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Show UNDER THE DAISIES. It is strange what a deal of trouble we take, What a sacrifice most of us are willing to make, How the lips will smile while the heart may break, And we bend to the ways of the world For the sake of its few and scanty praises. And time ??? ??? with such ??? flow That ??? ??? are misled before we know What work to finish, before we go To our long home under the daisies. And so often we fall in useless fright, For wrong is so much in the place of right, And the end is so far beyond our sight, Than as when one starts on a chase by night An unknown ??? pursuing; Even so do we when our race is ran, That all we have struggled for little is won, And of all the work our strength has done, How little was worth the doing. So most of us travel with very poor speed, Feeling? in thought where we conquered in deed, Least brave in the hour of the greatest need, And making a ??? that few may rend Of our life's intricate maze, Such a labyrinth of right and wrong. It is strange that a heart once brave and strong should father at last and most earnestly long For a calm sleep under the daisies. That if one poor troubled heart can say His kindness smoothed my life's rough way. And the ??? fall over the lifeless clay. We shall stand up in heaven in brighter array, Than if all earth rang with our praises, For the ??? and we have alone, shall never fail. Though the work be done and the wages paid, And the wearied form of the laborer laid All peacefully under the daisies. |