Voice Culture and Elocution

And the end is so far beyond our sight,
'Tis as when one starts on some chase by night
An unknown course pursuing:

And we find at the end of the race that we've run
That of all we have sought for little is won;
And of all of the work our strength has done,
How little was worth the doing.

So most of us travel at very poor speed;
Failing in thought while we conquer in deed,
Least brave in our hour of greatest need,
And making a riddle that few can read,
Of our life and its intricate mazes,
Such a labyrinth of right and wrong.

Is it strange that a heart once brave and strong
Should falter at last, and most earnestly long
For a calm sleep under the daisies?

But if one grateful heart can say
"Your kindness cheered my life's rough way,"
And a tear shall fall on our senseless clay,
We will stand up in Heaven in brighter array

Than if all the world rang with our praises; For the good that is done, it never will fade Though the work be wrought and the wages paid, And the lifeless form of the laborer laid

All peacefully under the daisies.

INDEX.

LONGER QUOTATIONS.

Accursed be the fagots that blaze at his feet...

Ah! mercy on my soul....

A hurry of hoofs in the village street.
Alack! I am afraid they have awak'd.

Alas! how light a cause....