The night hath come; it is no longer day? Than youth itself, though in another dress. -Henry W. Longfellow OPPORTUNITY Opportunity ASTER of human destinies am I. on Fame, love, and fortune on my footsteps wait, Cities and fields I walk; I penetrate Deserts and seas remote, and, passing by Save death; but those who doubt or hesitate, -John James Ingalls Opportunity HEY do me wrong who say I THE come no more When once I knock and fail to find you in; For every day I stand outside your door, And bid you wake and rise to fight and win. Wail not for precious chances passed away, Laugh like a boy at splendors that have sped, Though deep in mire, wring not your hands and weep, Dost thou behold thy lost youth all aghast? Art thou a mourner? Rouse thee from thy spell! Each morning gives thee wings to flee from hell. Each night a star to guide thy feet to heaven. -Hon. Walter Malone Opportunity1 ITH doubt and dismay you are smitten, You think there's no chance for you, son? The best score hasn't been made yet, No chance? Why the world is just eager No chance-why there's nothing but chance! For the best verse hasn't been rhymed yet, For the best jobs haven't been started, -Berton Braley 1 Used by permission of the author. The Task That Is Given to You1 O EACH one is given a marble to carve for the wall; Astone that is needed to heighten the beauty of all; And only his soul has the magic to give it grace; And only his hands have the cunning to put it in place. Yes, the task that is given to each one, no other can do; So the errand is waiting; it has waited through ages for you. And now you appear; and the hushed ones are turning their gaze, To see what you do with your chance in the chamber of days. PALESTINE -Edwin Markham Palestine LESSED land of Judea! thrice hallowed of song, B where the holiest Where the holiest of memories pilgrim-like throng; In the shade of thy palms, by the shores of thy sea, On the hills of thy beauty, my heart is with thee. With the eye of a spirit I look on that shore, 1 Copyright by Edwin Markham. Used by his permission. Blue sea of the hills!-in my spirit I hear The waters, Gennesaret, chime on my ear; Where the Lowly and Just with the people sat down, And thy spray on the dust of his sandals was thrown. Beyond are Bethulia's mountains of green, Hark, a sound in the valley! where swollen and strong, Thy river, O Kishon, is sweeping along; Where the Canaanite strove with Jehovah in vain, And thy torrent grew dark with the blood of the slain. There down from his mountains stern Zebulon came, There sleep the still rocks and the caverns which rang Lo, Bethlehem's hill-site before me is seen, With the mountains around, and the valleys between; And Bethany's palm-trees in beauty still throw |