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John Sullivan Dwight

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A O Looking into the Future.

H, never sit we down, and say There's nothing left but sorrow!

We walk the wilderness to-day, The promised land to-morrow.

And though age wearies by the way, And hearts break in the furrow, We'll sow the golden grain to-day, And harvest comes to-morrow.

Build up heroic lives, and all Be like a sheathen sabre, Ready to flash out at God's call, O chivalry of labor!

Triumph and toil are twins; and aye Joy suns the cloud of sorrow; And 'tis the martyrdom to-day Brings victory to-morrow.