John Greenleaf Whittier

Alas for him who never sees
The stars shine through his cypress-trees
Who, hopeless, lays his dead read more

Alas for him who never sees
The stars shine through his cypress-trees
Who, hopeless, lays his dead away,
Nor looks to see the breaking day
Across the mournful marbles play!

And let these altars, wreathed with flowers
And piled with fruits, awake again
Thanksgivings for the golden read more

And let these altars, wreathed with flowers
And piled with fruits, awake again
Thanksgivings for the golden hours,
The early and the latter rain!

Cast not the clouded gem away,
Quench not the dim but living ray,--
My brother man, Beware!
read more

Cast not the clouded gem away,
Quench not the dim but living ray,--
My brother man, Beware!
With that deep voice which from the skies
Forbade the Patriarch's sacrifice.
God's angel, cries, Forbear!

As a small businessperson, you have no greater leverage than the truth.

As a small businessperson, you have no greater leverage than the truth.

The smile of God is victory.

The smile of God is victory.