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  For gems of blackest jet may rest &emsp;Within a golden setting, And he is wise who understands &emsp;The science of forgetting.

Oh, trees that bow before the gale &emsp;Until its peaceful ending, Teach us your yielding, linked with strength, &emsp;Your graceful art of bending; For every tree must meet the storm, &emsp;Each heart encounter sorrow: Teach us like you to bow, that we &emsp;May stand erect to-morrow. For there is strength in humble grace, &emsp;Its wise disciples shielding— And he is strong who comprehends &emsp;The happy art of yielding.

Oh, streams which laugh all night, all day. &emsp;With voice of sweet seduction. Teach us your art of laughing more &emsp;At every new obstruction; For every life hath eddies deep, &emsp;And rapids fiercely dashing. Sometimes through gloomy caverns forced. &emsp;Sometimes in sunlight flashing. Yet there is wisdom in your way. &emsp;Tour laughing waves and wimples; Teach us your gospels built of smiles. &emsp;The secret of your dimples.

, S.A., November 1885.