The little brooks of the countryside,
are far from the rivers great and wide;
But softly flow through the meadows still,
and with quiet grace their tasks fulfill....
O what of our work and our lofty dreams?
Shall they vanish in vapid dust?
Shall influence die like the dried up streams?
Shall all that is gold turn to rust?...
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8/1/2021 3:50:39 AM # 18.104.22.1686