[Written for the Sentinel.]

The Eternal Now

THERE is no past, 'twas but a dream,— A phantom of the things that seem; The future is not ours, to say What will be, whether yea or nay.

We live in the eternal now, While Hope with her immortal brow In glad fruition sweetly sings, And Joy has lost her roving wings.

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Bells Brought Tidings of Peace
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