I'll just write it on this blank page in your book." There's a little splash of sunshine and a little spot of shade, always somewhere near, The wise bask in the sunshine, but the foolish choose the shade.
The wise are gay and happy, on the foolish, sorrow's laid, And the fault's their own, I fear.
For the little splash of sunshine and the little spot of shade Are here for joint consumption, for comparison are made; We're all meant to be happy, not too foolish or too staid.
And the right dose to be taken is some sunshine mixed with shade.
"Aunt Sarah, I see there is still space on this page to write another poem, a favorite of mine.

It is called, 'Be Strong,' by Maltbie Davenport." Be Strong! We are not here to play, to dream, to drift; We have hard word to do, and loads to lift, Shun not the struggle; face it, 'tis God's gift.
Be Strong! Say not the days are evil--who's to blame?
And fold the hands and acquiesce--Oh, shame! Stand up, speak out, and bravely, in God's name.
Be Strong! It matters not how deep intrenched the wrong, How hard the battle goes, the day how long; Faint not, fight on! Tomorrow comes the song, LIFE'S COMMON THINGS.
How lovely are life's common things.
When health flows in the veins; The golden sunshine of the days When Phoebus holds the reins; The floating clouds against the blue; The fragrance of the air; The nodding flowers by the way; The green grass everywhere; The feathery beauty of the elm, With graceful-swaying boughs.
Where nesting songbirds find a home And the night wind sighs and soughs; The hazy blue of distant hill, With wooded slope and crest; The crimson sky when low at night The sun sinks in the West; The thrilling grandeur of the storm, The lightning's vivid flash, The mighty rush of wind and rain, The thunder's awful crash.
And then the calm that follows storm, And rainbow in the sky; The rain-washed freshness of the earth-- A singing bird near by.
And oh, the beauty of the night! Its hush, its thrill, its charm; The twinkling brilliance of its stars; Its tranquil peace and calm.
Oh, loving fatherhood of God To give us every day The lovely common things of life To brighten all the way! (Susan M.Perkins, in the Boston Transcript) ABOU BEN ADHEM AND THE ANGEL.
Abou Ben Adhem--may his tribe increase-- Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace And saw, within the moonlight of his room, Making it rich and like a lily in bloom, An angel writing in a book of gold.
Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold, And to the presence in the room he said: "What writest thou ?" The vision raised his head, And with a look made of all sweet accord, Answered: "The names of those who love the Lord." "And is mine one ?" said Abou.

"Nay, not so," Replied the angel.

Abou spoke low, But cheerily still, and Said, "I pray thee, then, write me as one that loves his fellow-men." The angel wrote and vanished.

The next night It came again, with a great, wakening light, And showed the names whom love of God had blessed, And, lo! Ben Adhem's name led all the rest.
LEIGH HUNT..