From The Philosopher’s Stone
Now she heard the following words sadly sung,— “Life is a shadow that flits
In a night of darkness and woe.” But then would follow brighter thoughts: “Life has the rose’s sweet
With sunshine, light, and joy.” And if one stanza sounded painfully— “Each mortal thinks of himself alone,
Is a truth, alas, too clearly known;” Then, on the other hand, came the answer— “Love, like a mighty flowing stream,
Fills every heart with its radiant gleam.” She heard, indeed, such words as these— “In the pretty turmoil here below,
All is a vain and paltry show.” Then came also words of comfort— “Great and good are the actions
By many whose worth is never known.” And if sometimes the mocking strain reached her— “Why not join in the jesting
That contemns all gifts from the throne on high?” In the blind girl’s heart a stronger voice repeated— “To trust in thyself and God is best,
In His holy will forever to rest.” But the evil spirit could not see this and remain contented.
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