More things are wrought by prayer than this world dreams of.

Do we indeed desire the dead Should still be near us at our side ? Is there no baseness we would hide ? No inner vileness that we dread ? How many a father have I seen A sober man, among his boys Whose youth was full of foolish noise.

My purpose holds to sail beyond the sunset and the baths of all the Western stars until I die.

Who is this? And what is here? And in the lighted palace near Died the sound of royal cheer; And they crossed themselves for fear, All the Knights at Camelot; But Lancelot mused a little space He said, "She has a lovely face; God in his mercy lend her grace, The Lady of Shalott.

For love reflects the thing beloved.

We needs must love the highest when we see it.

There's no glory like those who save their country.