Dreams grow holy put in action.

No star is lost once we have seen, We always may be what we might have been.

The men are much alarmed by certain speculations about women; and well they may be, for when the horse and ass begin to think and argue, adieu to riding and driving.

Do not look at life's long sorrow; see how small each moment's pain.

Dreams grow holy put in action; work grows fair through starry dreaming, But where each flows on unmingling, both are fruitless and in vain.

Seated one day at the organ, I was weary and ill at ease, and my fingers wandered idly over the noisy keys. It seemed the harmonious echo from our discordant life.

I do not ask, O Lord, that life may be a pleasant road.