Over and Over Again

Over and over again,

No matter which way I turn,

I always find in the book of life,

Some lesson I have to learn.

I must take my turn at the mill,

I must grind out the golden grain,

I must work out my task with a resolute will,

Over and over again.

We cannot measure the need

Of even the tiniest flower,

Nor check the flow of the 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 once have learned,

Is never so hard to repeat.

Though sorrowful tears must fall,

And the heart to its depths be driven

With storm and tempest, we need them all

To render us meet for Heaven.