"Don't judge each day by the harvest you reap but by the seeds that you plant."
"Blows the wind to-day, and the sun and the rain are flying, Blows the wind on the moors to-day and now, Where about the graves of the martyrs the whaups are crying, My heart remembers how!"
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Source: 1894 Songs of Travel (published 1896), no.45,'To S.R. Crockett (in reply to a dedication)', stanza 1.
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