It is easy to tell the toiler How best he can carry his pack But no one can rate a burden's weight Until it has been on his back

Ah, lady! it is hardly what you thought it, This life of luxury and social power; You gave yourself as principal, and bought it, But God extracts the interest hour by hour.

For every hour of pain I have had a day of pleasure. For every moment of worry, an hour of content.

The dark today leads into light tomorrow. There is no endless joy, and yet no endless sorrow.

The passion you forbade my lips to utter Will not be silenced. You must hear it in The sullen thunders when they roll and mutter: And when the tempest nears, with wail and din, I know your calm forgetfulness is broken, And to your heart you whisper, "He has spoken."

Love much. Earth has enough of bitter in it.

And he who has dwelt with his heart alone, Hears all the music in friendship's tone. So better and better I comprehend How sorrow ever would be our friend.