I bid the chords sweet music make, And all must follow in my wake.
Every beginning is cheerful.
Upon the creatures we have made, we are, ourselves, at last, dependent.
A talent is formed in stillness, a character in the world's torrent.
A man is not little when he finds it difficult to cope with circumstances, but when circumstances overmaster him.
Tomorrow sees undone, what happens not to-day; Still forward press, nor never tire! The possible, with steadfast trust, Resolve should be by the forelock grasp. Then she will ne'er let go her clasp, And labors on, because she must.