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Oh Life, what would'st thou be worth but for the hereafter! Liable at any moment to be clouded by sorrow, thy sunniest hours are but a passing dream! Thy happiest memories chilled by some poignant regret, thy noblest aspirations checked by the promptings of distrust or inefficiency, thy highest sense of duty overpowered by timid counsels, thou art one continued struggle between heaven-born impulses on the one side, and earth-bound propensities on the other. Aye, but it is for the hereafter thou wast created.

Through toil and sacrifice; up the rugged ascent