Over and Over Again

Over and over again,
No matter which way I turn
I always find in the book of Life
Some lessons I have to learn.
I must take my turn at the mill,
I must grind out the golden grain
I must work at my task with a resolute will,
Over and over again.

We can not measure the need
Of even the tiniest flower,
Nor check the flow of golden sands
That run through a single hour.
But the morning dews must fall,
And the sun and the summer rain
Must do their part, and perform it all
Over and over again.

Over and over again,
The brook through the meadow flows,
And over and over again
The ponderous mill-wheel goes.
Once doing will not suffice,
Though doing be not in vain:
And a blessing, failing us once or twice,
May come, if we try again.

The path that has once been trod
Is never so rough to the feet;
And the lesson we have once learned
Is never so hard to repeat.
Though sorrowful tears may fall,
And the heart to its depths be riven
With storm and tempest, we need them all
To render us meet for heaven.¹