Thursday, November 18, 2010


They do me wrong who say I come no more. When once I knock and fail to find you in; For every day I stand outside your door, And bid you wake, and rise to fight and win. Wail not for precious chances passed away; Weep not for golden ages on the wane; Each night I burn the records of the day; At sunrise every soul is born again. Laugh like a boy at splendors that have sped, To vanished joys be blind and deaf and dumb; My judgments seal the dead past with its dead, But never bind a moment yet to come. Though deep in mire wring not your hands and weep, I lend my arm to all who say, I can! No shamefaced outcast ever sank so deep But yet might rise and be again a man! Dost thou behold thy lost youth all aghast? Dost reel from righteous retribution's blow? Then turn from blotted archives of the past And find the future's pages white as snow. Art thou a mourner? Rouse thee from thy spell; 40 Art thou a sinner? Sin may be forgiven; Each morning gives thee wings to flee from hell, Each night a star to guide thy feet to heaven. STRIVE not to banish pain and doubt, In pleasures noisy din; The peace thou seekest from without, Is only found within. (Walter Malone)1 of 22
THE LAW OF SUCCESS IN SIXTEEN LESSONS by Napoleon Hill Teaching, for the First Time in the History of the World, the True Philosophy upon which all Personal Success is Built. PUBLISHED BY The RALSTON UNIVERSITY PRESS MERIDEN, CONN. COPYRIGHT 1928, BY NAPOLEON HILL

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