Whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honorable, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things. — Phil 4:8
He comes—he comes—the Frost Spirit comes:
You may trace his footsteps now
On the naked woods and the blasted fields,
And the brown hill’s withered brow.
He has smitten the leaves of the gray old trees,
Where their green came forth,
And the winds, which follow wherever he goes,
Have shaken them down to earth.
He comes—he comes—the Frost Spirit comes!
Let us meet him as we may,
And turn with the light of the parlor fire
His evil power away;
And gather closer the circle round,
Where the firelight dances high,
And laugh at the shriek of the baffled fiend,
As his sounding wing goes by.
— John G. Whittier.
We would fill the hours with the sweetest things,
If we had but a day:
We should drink alone at the purest springs,
In our upward way:
We should guide our wayward or wearied will,
By the clearest light:
We should keep our eyes on the heavenly hills,
If they lay in sight:
We should be from our clamorous selves set free,
To work and pray:
And be what the Father would have us to be,
If we had but a day.
— Margaret E. Sangster.
Gracious Father, help me to understand that my life grows out of what I put into my days. Forgive me for the unspoken words and the kind deeds which I kept for rare days, and had so few occasions to use. May I be as useful in kindness as I am in work, remembering that to thee every day is a golden day. Amen.