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| John Bartlett (1820–1905). Familiar Quotations, 10th ed. 1919. |
| Helen (Fiske) Hunt Jackson. (1830–1885) |
| 1 |
| All lost things are in the angels’ keeping, Love; No past is dead for us, but only sleeping, Love. |
| At last. |
| 2 |
| Like a blind spinner in the sun, I tread my days: I know that all the threads will run Appointed ways. I know each day will bring its task, And being blind no more I ask. |
| Spinning. |
| 3 |
| On the king’s gate the moss grew gray; The king came not. They called him dead And made his eldest son one day Slave in his father’s stead. |
| Coronation. |
| 4 |
| Father, I scarcely dare to pray, So clear I see, now it is done, How I have wasted half my day, And left my work but just begun. |
| A last Prayer. |
| 5 |
| The voice of one who goes before, to make The paths of June more beautiful, is thine Sweet May! |
| May. |
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