r- 
88 love’s T O K E N - F L O W E R-S. 
When sounds of busy life are on the air, 
And man awakes to labor and to care, 
Then hie thee forth : go out amid thy kind, 
Thy daily tasks to do — thy hardest sheaves to 
bind. 
Go forth at noontide hour, 
* Beneath the heat and burden of the day— 
Pursue the labors of thine onward way, 
Nor murmur if thou miss life’s morning 
flower; 
Where’er the footsteps of mankind are found, 
Thou still mayst see some spot of hallowed 
ground, 
Where duty blossoms even as the rose, 
Though sharp and stinging thorns the beauteous 
bud enclose. 
Go forth at eventide, 
When sounds of toil no more the soft air fill— 
When all the hum of human life is still, 
And the bird’s song has on the night-breeze 
died : 
