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

I knew it the first of the summer, I knew it the same at the end, That you and your love were plighted, But couldn't you be my friend?

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.

One bitter time of mourning, I remember, When day, and night, my sad heart did complain, My life, I said, was one cold, bleak December, And all its pleasures, were but whited pain.

Distrust that man who tells you to distrust. He takes the measure of his own small soul, and thinks the world no larger.

One ship drives east and other drives west by the same winds that blow. It's the set of the sails and not the gales that determines the way they go.

'Tis the set of the sail that decides the goal, and not the storm of life.