|Grocott & Ward, comps. Grocotts Familiar Quotations, 6th ed. 189-?.|
|O, fair to-morrow, what our souls have missed|
Art thou not keeping for us, somewhere, still?
The buds of promise that have never blown
The tender lips that we have never kissed
The song whose high, sweet strain eludes our skill
The one white pearl that life hath never known.
Julia C. R. Dorr.Three Days.