As the days of spring arouse all nature to a green and growing vitality, so when hope enters the soul it makes all things new. It insures the progress which it predicts. Rooted in faith, growing up into love; these make the three immortal graces of the gospel, whose intertwined arms and concurrent voices shed joy and peace over our human life.
Let the sweet hope that Thou art mine,
My life and death attend;
Thy presence through my journey shine,
And crown my journey's end.
With a mind not diseased, a holy life is a life of hope; and at the end of it, death is a great act of hope.
Hope humbly then; with trembling pinions soar;
Wait the great teacher, Death, and God adore;
What future bliss He gives not thee to know,
But gives that hope to be thy blessing now.
Daughter of Faith, awake, arise, illume
The dread unknown, the chaos of the tomb.
I thought that the light-house looked lovely as hope,
That star on life's tremulous ocean.
HUMILITY.
Humility, that low, sweet root,
From which all heavenly virtues shoot.
