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P. M.


The Purpose of Life.

Hast thou, ’midst life’s empty noises,

Heard the solemn steps of Time,

And the low, mysterious voices

Of another clime?

Early hath life’s mighty question

Thrilled within thy heart of youth,

With a deep and strong beseeching,—

What, and where, is truth?

Not to ease and aimless quiet

Doth the inward answer tend;

But to works of love and duty,

As our being’s end.

Earnest toil and strong endeavor

Of a spirit which within

Wrestles with familiar evil

And besetting sin;

And without, with tireless vigor,

Steady heart, and purpose strong,

In the power of Truth assaileth

Every form of wrong.

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