Reflection

I climbed my weary way,The jagged rocks were rough along the road,The fog hung low:I climbed my weary way with lagging steps,Halting and slow.

It seemed as though I madeNo gain, except a toiling step or two,And so I sang,Uplifting thought to melodies divineTill echo rang.

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Signs of the Times
February 6, 1932
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