ted and bled,
Are healed with the healing which night has shed.

Every day is a fresh beginning,
Listen, my soul, to the glad refrain,
And, spite of old sorrow and older sinning,
And puzzles forecasted, and possible pain,
Take heart with the day and begin again.

* * * * *

Each morning is a fresh beginning. We are, as it were, just beginning
life. We have it _entirely_ in our own hands. And when the morning with
its fresh beginning comes, all yesterdays should be yesterdays, with
which we have nothing to do. Sufficient is it to know that the way we
lived our yesterday has determined for us our today. And, again, when
the morning with its fresh beginning comes, all tomorrows should be
tomorrows, with which we have nothing to do. Sufficient to know that the
way we live our today determines our tomorrow.

Simply the first hour of this new day, with all its richness and glory,
with all its sublime and eternity-determining possibilities, and each
succeeding hour as it comes, but _not before_ it comes--this is the
secret of character building. This simple method will bring any one to
the realization of the highest life that can be even conceived of, and
there is nothing in this connection that can be conceived of that cannot
be realized somehow, somewhen, somewhere.

* * * * *

The poem hangs on the berry-bush
When comes the poet's eye,
And the whole street is a masquerade
When Shakespeare passes by.

* * * * *

This same Shakespeare, whose mere passing causes all this commotion, is
the one who put into the mouth of one of his creations the words: "The
fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in ourselves, that we are
underlings." And again he gave us a great truth when he said:

"Our doubts are traitors,
And make us lose the good we oft might win
By fearing to attempt."

There is probably no agent that brings us more undesirable conditions
than fear. We should live in fear of nothing, nor will we when we come
fully to know ourselves. An old French proverb runs:

"Some of your griefs you have cured,
And the sharpest you still have survived;
But what torments of pain you endured
From evils that never arrived."

Fear and lack of faith go hand in hand. The one is born of the other.
Tell me how much one is given to f