| J. R. Miller | Page 13 |
Nothing else in all life is such a maker of joy and cheer as the privilege of doing good. Kossuth once said: ‘‘If I had to choose my place among the forces of nature, do you know what I would choose to be? I would be the dew that falls silently and invisibly over the face of nature, trampled underfoot and unconsidered, but perpetually blessing and refreshing all forms of life.” It is in such losing of self that one finds truest, purest, and deepest happiness. One writes:—
“If I can live
To make some pale face brighter, and to give
A second lustre to some tear-dimmed eye,
Or e’en impart
One throb of comfort to an aching heart,
Or cheer some way-worn soul in passing by—
If I can lend
A strong hand to the fallen, or defend
The right against a single envious strain,
My life though bare,
Perhaps, of much that seemeth dear and fair
To us of earth, will not have been in vain.
The purest joy—
Most near to heaven — far from earth’s alloy,
Is bidding cloud give way to sun and shine;
And ‘twill be well
lf on that day of days the angels tell
Of me, ‘She did her best for one of thine.’”
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