Sarah Doudney Quotes

But the waiting time, my brothers,
Is the hardest time of all.

And a proverb haunts my mind
As a spell is cast,
"The mill cannot grind
With the water that is past."

I send thee pansies while the year is young,
Yellow as sunshine, purple as the night; Flowers of remembrance, ever fondly sung
By all the chiefest of the Sons of Light.

The pure, the beautiful, the bright,
That stirred our hearts in youth,
The impulse to a wordless prayer, The dreams of love and truth,
The longings after something lost, The spirit’s yearning cry,
The strivings after better hopes,—
These things can never die.