The Greeks said grandly in their tragic phrase, 'Let no one be called happy till his death;' to which I would add, 'Let no one, till his death, be called unhappy.'

Death forerunneth Love to win "Sweetest eyes were ever seen."

What I do and what I dream include thee, as the wine must taste of its own grapes.

Experience, like a pale musician, holds a dulcimer of patience in his hand.

Where Christ brings His cross He brings His presence; and where He is none are desolate, and there is no room for despair.

The devil's most devilish when respectable.

Enough! we're tired, my heart and I. We sit beside the headstone thus, And wish that name were carved for us. The moss reprints more tenderly The hard types of the mason's knife, As Heaven's sweet life renews earth's life With which we're tired, my heart and I .... In this abundant earth no doubt Is little room for things worn out: Disdain them, break them, throw them by! And if before the days grew rough We once were loved, used, - well enough, I think, we've fared, my heart and I.