VOL. XI, NO. 2. OCTOBER, 1899.
WE turn the pages that they read,
Their written words we linger o'er,
But in the sun they £ast no shade,
No voice is heard, no sign is made,
No step is on the conscious floor !
Yet Love will dream, and Faith will trust,
(Since He who knows our need is just,)
That somehow, somewhere, meet we must.
—John Greenleaf Whittier.
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