August 23

_The bee that sips her sweets from flowers fair, Flying on careless wing now here, now there, With azure skies above, green sward below, And soft south wind to bear her to and fro, Might seem the soul of self-devoted ease, Her life a draught of nectar without lees.

Not so! Her prime is full of strenuous deed That shames our own in generous meed Of work for other's good. Long summer days She builds her golden house, with guerdons stays Her Queen, uprears her young, and stores her food-- Then sudden shuns her wealth, her home, her brood, And seeks new haven on an unknown sea, Leaving her life-work to posterity._

HENRY HOYT MOORE.

Gracious Father in heaven, and all about me, Thy gentleness doth ever tend to make life greater and richer. Thy providence is so wholesomely good, I would fain be completely at home in it. Thou art very gracious.

Help me to be as gracious in my way as Thou art in Thy wonderful way.

When I acknowledge that Thou art good and wise, there comes a joyous freedom to my spirit that makes life a sweet pleasure. I desire ever to work in the fulness of this faith without grudging, without suspecting, an open, glad and fruitful service. Oh, help me then to love my fellows more, and Thee sincerely! Amen.

ELIHU GRANT.

August 24

_Drudgery is the gray angel of success.... Look at the leaders in the professions, the solid men in business, the master-workmen who begin as poor boys and end by building a town to house their factory-hands, they are drudges of the single aim.... "One thing I do."... Mr. Maydole, the hammer-maker of Central New York, was an artist: "Yes," he said, "I have made hammers for twenty-eight years." "Well, then you ought to be able to make a pretty good hammer by this time." "No, sir," was the answer, "I never made a pretty good hammer--I make the best hammer made in the United States."_

WILLIAM C. GANNETT.

O Lord, we remember our daily duties before Thee, the hard toil which Thou givest us in our manifold and various avocations, and we pray Thee that there may be in us such a confidence in our nature, such earnest obedience to Thee, we reverencing all Thy qualities and keeping Thy commands, that we shall serve Thee every day, making our life one great act of holiness unto Thee. May our continuous industry be so squared by the golden rule that it shall nicely fit with the interests of all with whom we have to do, and so by our handicraft all mankind shall be blessed. Amen.

THEODORE PARKER.

August 25

_His larger life ye cannot miss In gladly, n.o.bly using this._

BAYARD TAYLOR.

_There are saints enough if we only know how to find them--sainthoods of the fireside and of the market place. They wear no glory round their heads; they do their duties in the strength of G.o.d; they have their martyrdoms and win their palms, and though they get into no calendars, they leave a benediction and a force behind them on the earth when they go up to heaven._

PHILLIPS BROOKS.

Our Father, in Whose life are our lives, help us to use all things n.o.bly and so find joy in Thee. We thank Thee for faithful souls who in humblest station have reflected Thy life and have worked for blessing.

In Thy strength they have sought to build Thy kingdom, and though they have had no glory of men they yet have wrought for Thee and have won place in Thy heart. Because they have aided the world and others have entered into their labors their good work shall remain and its quiet influence shall be a benediction. Though they have lived obscure lives and have filled obscure places they have been precious in Thy sight and are numbered with Thy saints. May we, like them, eternally serve Thee.

Amen.

GEORGE H. YOUNG.

August 26

_We can't choose happiness either for ourselves or for another; we can't tell where that will lie. We can only choose whether we will indulge ourselves in the present moment, or whether we will renounce that for the sake of obeying the divine voice within us,--for the sake of being true to all the motives that sanctify our lives. I know this belief is hard; it has slipped away from me again and again; but I have felt that if I let it go forever, I should have no light through the darkness of this life._

GEORGE ELIOT.

O G.o.d, Thou knowest the hours in which we desire Thee. Thou knowest that Thou hast made us to love truth and to walk in the light and when we are unjust, unkind, unloving, then we are not true to ourselves,--then we forget that we are living souls and that Thou art our Father. Let us not draw nigh to Thee with our lips while our hearts are far from Thee, but, knowing how dependent and frail we are, may we feel that it is a good and helpful thing to draw nigh unto Thee by faith and prayer,--and to take thought of that Infinite Love which holds us all in its arms of strength and mercy. Lift up our minds today, warm our affections, and deepen within us the feeling of reverence, of grat.i.tude, and guide all the longings of our hearts aright. Amen.

JOSHUA YOUNG.

August 27

_Life may be given in many ways, And loyalty to truth be sealed As bravely in the closet as the field, So bountiful is fate; But then to stand beside her, When craven churls deride her, To front a lie in arms and not to yield, This shows, methinks, G.o.d's plan And measure of a stalwart man, Limbed like the old heroic breeds, Who stands self-poised on manhood's solid earth, Not forced to frame excuses for his birth, Fed from within with all the strength he needs._

JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL.

Heavenly Father, in this new day may we recognize a new opportunity for seeking Thy purpose in us; to become stronger children of Thine, and worthier followers of Thy Son. Whatever be our trial give us courage to stand without compromise, for that which we believe to be true; give us grace to rise superior to praise or blame, timidity or self-interest; to be loyal to the best in us, and be ever ready to protest against wrong and injustice. Help us to know ourselves as temples of Thine; to know that the essential princ.i.p.al in us is not dust, but G.o.d; to rise to that dignity of sonship that compels one to choose the right and say: "Here I stand, I cannot do otherwise." In His name. Amen.

HERBERT H. GRAVES.

August 28

_All we have willed or hoped or dreamed of good, shall exist; Not its semblance, but itself; no beauty, nor good, nor power Whose voice has gone forth, but each survives for the melodist, When eternity affirms the conception of an hour.

The high that proved too high, the heroic for earth too hard, The pa.s.sion that left the ground to lose itself in the sky, Are music sent up to G.o.d by the lover and the bard; Enough that he heard it once: we shall hear it by and by._

ROBERT BROWNING.

O G.o.d, our heavenly Father! we come before Thee at this morning hour, thanking Thee for Thy loving care, that has protected us through the night, and for the blessed sleep, that has brought refreshment to our bodies and minds. We are grateful, O Father, for this new day, rich in hope and promise and opportunity, and we pray that, as its hours pa.s.s, we may be kept very near to Thee, that the "Words of our mouth and the meditations of our heart, may be acceptable in Thy sight," that when the day is done, and we come to Thee at its close, we need in no wise to be ashamed. Amen.

NELLIE MANN OPDALE.

August 29

_How often does the chopper of some stone, While toiling at his task of heave and shock, Find in the heart-s.p.a.ce of a severed rock The impress of some fern that once had grown, Full of aspiring life and color-tone, Deep in the forest where the shadows flock, Till, caught within the adamantine block, It lay for ages hidden and unknown!

So many a beauteous thought blooms in the mind But unexpressed, droops down into the soul And lies unuttered in the silence there Until some opener of the soul shall find The fern-like fossilled dream, complete and whole, And marvel at its beauty past compare._

ALFRED L. DONALDSON.

O mighty Potter, to whose steadfast eyes A thousand years lie open as one day, Thy patient hand set firm on life's great wheel This heavy, shapeless clay.

Rough and imperfect, yet it owns Thy touch; Spare not, nor stay, the pressure of Thine hand; Make known Thy power; and soon, or late, let love Perfect what love hath planned!

Amen.

L. H. HAMMOND.

August 30

_The dark green summer, with its ma.s.sive hues, Fades into Autumn's tincture manifold; A gorgeous garniture of fire and gold The high slope of the ferny hill indues.

The mists of morn in slumbering layers diffuse O'er glimmering rock, smooth lake, and spiked array Of hedgerow thorns a unity of gray.

All things appear their tangible form to lose In ghostly vastness. But anon the gloom Melts, as the sun puts off his muddy veil.

And now the birds their twittering songs resume, All summer silent in the leafy dale.

In spring they piped of love on every tree, But now they sing the song of memory._

HARTLEY COLERIDGE.