And men, whose reason long was blind, From cells of madness unconfined, Oft lose whole years of darker mind.

Come, my friends Tis not too late to seek a newer world Push off, and sitting well in order smite The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds To sail beyond the sunset and the baths Of all the western stars, until I die

Four grey walls, and four grey towers, Overlook a space of flowers, And the silent isle imbowers The Lady of Shalott.

It was my duty to have loved the highest; It surely was my profit had I known: It would have been my pleasure had I seen. We needs must love the highest when we see it, Not Lancelot, nor another.

Not once or twice in our rough island story, The path of duty was the way to glory.

Battering the gates of heaven with the storms of prayer.

Bible reading is an education in itself.