I was as pure as the morning When I first looked on your face; I knew I never could reach you In your high, exalted place.

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?

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.

Let there be many windows to your soul, that all the glory of the world may beautify it.

I think of death as some delightful journey that I shall take when all my tasks are done.

Content is not the pathway to great deeds.

Whatever your work and whatever its worth, No matter how strong or clever, Some one will sneer if you pause to hear, And scoff at your best endeavor. For the target art has a broad expanse, And wherever you chance to hit it, Though close be your aim to the bull's-eye fame, There are those who will never admit it.