In what a forge and what a heat were shaped the anchors of thy hope! Fear not each sudden sound and shock; 'Tis of the wave and not the rock.

A life that is worth writing at all is worth writing minutely.

Something the heart must have to cherish, Must love and joy and sorrow learn; Something with passion clasp, or perish And in itself to ashes burn.

I have you fast in my fortress, And will not let you depart, But put you down into the dungeon, In the round-tower of my heart, And there will I keep you forever, Yes, forever and a day, Till the walls shall crumble to ruin, And moulder in the dust away!

Stay, stay at home, my heart and rest; Home-keeping hearts are happiest.

Our pleasures and our discontents, Are rounds by which we may ascend.

Man is unjust, but God is just; and finally justice triumphs.