my hand the staff Of close communion with the over-soul, That I might lean upon it till the end, And find myself made strong for any strife.

And then these three who had pursued my steps Like stern, relentless foes, year after year, Unmasked, and turned their faces full on me, And lo! they were divinely beautiful, For through them shone the lustrous eyes of Love.

 You Never Can Tell

You never can tell when you send a word, Like an arrow shot from a bow By an archer blind, be it cruel or kind, Just where it may chance to go. It may pierce the breast of your dearest friend. Tipped with its poison or balm, To a stranger's heart in life's great mart, It may carry its pain or its calm.

Like an arrow shot from a bow

Just where it may chance to go.

Tipped with its poison or balm,

It may carry its pain or its calm.

You never can tell when you do an act Just what the result will be; But with every deed you are sowing a seed, Though the harvest you may not see. Each kindly act is an acorn dropped In God's productive soil You may not know, but the tree shall grow, With shelter for those who toil.

Just what the result will be;

Though the harvest you may not see.

In God's productive soil

With shelter for those who toil.

You never can tell what your thoughts will do, In bringing you hate or love; For thoughts are things, and their airy wings Are swifter than carrier doves. They follow the law of the universe— Each thing must create its kind, And they speed o'er the track to bring you back Whatever went out from your mind.

In bringing you hate or love;

Are swifter than carrier doves.

Each thing must create its kind,

Whatever went out from your mind.

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