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For her friends and mine: a book of aspirations, dreams and memories . 373 LENVOI. (Woods Hole, Mass.) These songs are done! Farewell, my dear, farewell!Out of thine ashes grow all lovely thingsThat bud and bloom, or rise on joyous wings, Or in the beryl sea-deep twilight dwell! Thy spirit unto mine a quickening flameOf high resolve, an impulse unto good,A hand that never tires—all this I would, Till hungering souls through me shall bless thy name. So shalt thou live in other lives on earth,And from thy dwelling place within Gods heartFind all is good! There may each have his part, And find in

For her friends and mine: a book of aspirations, dreams and memories . 373 LENVOI. (Woods Hole, Mass.) These songs are done! Farewell, my dear, farewell!Out of thine ashes grow all lovely thingsThat bud and bloom, or rise on joyous wings, Or in the beryl sea-deep twilight dwell! Thy spirit unto mine a quickening flameOf high resolve, an impulse unto good,A hand that never tires—all this I would, Till hungering souls through me shall bless thy name. So shalt thou live in other lives on earth,And from thy dwelling place within Gods heartFind all is good! There may each have his part, And find in Stock Photo
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Contributor:

The Reading Room / Alamy Stock Photo

Image ID:

2AXFGJ9

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7.1 MB (542.1 KB Compressed download)

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2137 x 1169 px | 36.2 x 19.8 cm | 14.2 x 7.8 inches | 150dpi

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For her friends and mine: a book of aspirations, dreams and memories . 373 LENVOI. (Woods Hole, Mass.) These songs are done! Farewell, my dear, farewell!Out of thine ashes grow all lovely thingsThat bud and bloom, or rise on joyous wings, Or in the beryl sea-deep twilight dwell! Thy spirit unto mine a quickening flameOf high resolve, an impulse unto good, A hand that never tires—all this I would, Till hungering souls through me shall bless thy name. So shalt thou live in other lives on earth, And from thy dwelling place within Gods heartFind all is good! There may each have his part, And find in Natures God divine re-birth. Then be with earth and sea forevermoreThy sacred ashes part of this dear shore! On train, New York to Washington, December 9, 1913. 379. I shot an arrow into the air. —Longfellow. LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 0 018 393 654 2 A

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