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 OURAGE, dear heart, we must not both despair : Somewhere the sun is shining, even now — Shining on laughing brooks and meadows fair, Stirring the very breeze that frets your brow. Surely the path will open farther on, Tis but a little way that we have gone. Yes, it is hard — the drenching blinding mist That, if it could, would shut me out from you ; The snake Despair that from its fastness hissed ; The fair false Hope that to the ravine drew ; But we were saved, we are God's children yet, He will not let us go, though we forget.