The times dispatch. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1903-1914, 1913-12-07
Cares That Infest the Day

Nothing ia ever really lost after
all!' 1t is It cry ns old as the world
echoed and rc-cchocd from time i'm
memorial in all the art and learning
and science of the ages, and II is a
pcrfuincd message from each being
who has struggled with his banner to-
ward heights unattainablc to the lutte
player In the valley. who may only lift
his eyes to the mountain peaks of his
desire. When your day has turned the
corner of it's afternoon and left you
6till among tho ruins Of small things,
not yet accomplished. and the dreams
of others that will not come true. thon
must you take from it's place ON :,
musty shelf the book OF forgotten lives.
Upon It's pages arc chroniclcd all tho
tuinuIt or unhallowed years, and the
deeds that never Wer. done-tle drag
ons al! unslain. the laurel wreath vet
un8athcted Within us sheets are
pictures. the courage and love that
look on tempest. ana are not shaken"
There is tho iovclicst fragment that
J know, OF steudfast tree. that all sim
ter long have wcathcred the ia and
sieet and tcmpcst and the winds that
blow, but when spring comes the
leaves freshly bud again, forgctful Of
m" wrong and woe. The waters rIr
beneath stern castings Of ice with quiet
undernow content.d to be dumb until
they may pipe their song for blue
.kie. and summer DAYS, and tho stare
that the clouds have passed aofore are
not stained by tho rnoincntarv dark
ness. hut only made brighter ana more
allurinp than formerly. II is story
Tor man, who sits him down IN his
woe and clasps his hands 10 a defeat
Cd heart. all unknowinr that strength
shall como forth from his bitterness
and despair, unmindful that he must
content his soul with quiet and the
dark for a little space.
i, Is the small things of LIFETIME
cares that infest tho day--that weigh
ones soul and make the gateless gar
len where YOU fain would ina an
trance. You had dreamed such great
dreams Of e golden future. In rosy
light and TO tho plaudsts OF a listen
ing world. YOU had trod tic way Of
your desire and lived your life and
o"cn gathered to your fathers But ~
Was just dream. after all and YOU
found that ~ had not been allotted -
YOU L. carry the banner OF strange DE-
vice toward tho SUBMITS of achieve
mont You We're only a lutc-player IN
the vallcy. and to-day. with It's multi
notouy, must be nrst lived and passed
before YOU entered upon the broad
white road Perhaps you might never
enter thu winding whiteness of its al
Turing stretches. poghaps--a lutte
player may only dwei! beside one door
step and its roses blooming there.
In one OF the stories. in the chcm-
istry and science OF your school days
in at least two of the Things that you
have loved best have YOU not read the
Try OF wLat is lost and what IS gain
cd? 1t Is there. anu IT tells the tale
of all petals gathered together in the
eud to max, = glorious, perfected rose,
and !, briuss a pcrfumcd message 20
n listening lutc player concerning his
melody. and. IT says for all tho world TO
near md Cor all time TO gather IN
Nothing Is ever really lost after all
d.lve TO-DAY, Tomorrow viii come.
perhaps the same as to-day; sing to
day / only the roses at Your door ar
there TO hear; serve always that your
name be written as ono who loves his
fellowInen content thy soul until the
summer sun is come: forget tho dark
ness and the WINDS that pass. make
melody of the days as they rum
BRENT WITT