The feel of not to feel it, When there is none to heal it Nor numbed sense to steel it.
To stay youthful, stay useful.
Stop and consider! life is but a day
O Solitude! If I must with thee dwell, Let it not be among the jumbled heap of murky buildings
To Sorrow I bade good-morrow, And thought to leave her far away behind; But cheerly, cheerly, She loves me dearly: She is so constant to me, and so kind.
We read fine things but never feel them to the full until we have gone the same steps as the author.