How gently rock yon poplars high Against the reach of primrose sky With heaven's pale candles stored.
O fateful flower beside the rill- The Daffodil, the daffodil!
I am glad to think I am not bound to make the world go right, but only to discover and to do, with cheerful heart, the work that God appoints.
It is not reason which makes faith hard, but life.
I have lived life long enough to thank God that all my prayers have not been answered
Tears are the showers that fertilize this world.